


Love Like Me

by PRINCE_L0T0R



Category: Voltron - Fandom, Voltron: Legendary Defender, klance - Fandom
Genre: All of the trigger warnings, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bondage, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Child Abuse, Cuban!Lance, Cutting, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Gay Keith (Voltron), Good Boy, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kinky, Lance is kinda dumb, Langst, Langstalot, Light BDSM, Lotor Lotor, Love Like Me, M/M, Mama's boy, Mommy Issues, Multi, Other, Panic Attacks, Parent/Child Incest, Past Child Abuse, Police!Allura, Sad!Lance, Science Fiction, Self-Harm, Sexy Underwear, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Tags May Change, Texan!Keith, Trigger Warnings, abuse!lance, cop!allura, cop!mattholt, cop!shiro, counselor!coran, detective!allura, detective!mattholt, detective!shiro, dog boy lance, drunk!father, high school-au, hurt!lance, klangst, lance is a mama's boy, lawyer!coran, mild homophobia, ongoing, orphan!Keith, police!mattholt, police!shiro, pornstar!lotor, really sad, sad!lotor, scifi, this shit is really fucked up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-06 09:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11597385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PRINCE_L0T0R/pseuds/PRINCE_L0T0R
Summary: Lance's father left before he was born, but his mother raised him to love and to be loved. Lance is lucky to have a mommy that loves him so much. Lance is lucky to have a new daddy who loves him, too. Keith wants the life and love of Lance, but does he know what he asking for? Does Keith really want to know what it is like to Love Like Me(Lance)?





	1. Lance I

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This is pretty terrible. If you have morals, probably don't read this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a little confusing, but Lance chapters take place after Keith chapters. Eventually, they will line up, but I'll tell you when that happens. We'll talk about Lotor when we get there.

“Sit here, Lance. I need to ask you a few questions,” Detective Shiro said. I sat down at the desk/table thing, wincing a little bit at the pain in my legs and back, and he sat across from me. On the table was a notepad, a pen, and an audio recorder. Shiro pressed the button with a red circle on it. “Was this, on the night of August the 13th, the first time Rico Hernandez engaged in sexual intercourse with you?”

I looked at him blankly. What the hell was ‘ _intercourse_ ’?

“Was this the first time he had sex with you?” he repeated.

Still, I had no idea what Shiro meant. I raised an eyebrow and cocked my head slightly.

“You know,” Shiro said. “Like…” He made a motion with his hands. He put the index finger of one hand into a circle that he made with the thumb and forefinger of his other hand.

“Oh…” I said, finally understanding. By sex, he meant love. I knew I wasn’t supposed to talk about home love, but maybe Shiro already knew, so it was okay. I probably wouldn’t get in trouble. I wasn’t going to tell him _everything_. I’ll just clear Papi’s name and we can go home. “No. Papi- uh, Rico has always loved me.” 

Shiro furrowed his brow and wrote something on the notepad in front of him. “How long is always?”

This Shiro guy had a weird scar across his nose that I found my eyes drawn to. “I mean, I met him when I was seven. He loved me, like, two days after that. So...” I paused to do the math. “Nine years? Almost ten?”

Shiro looked up suddenly. "Are you saying that Rico has been having sex with you for the last ten years?" he said, alarmed.

"Yes."

The detective's look softened. Was that pity? “Do you-” he cleared his throat. “Do you know how frequently this occurred?”

I didn’t skip a beat. “Almost everyday.” I wanted to make sure the record showed that Rico was normally a loving guy. “It would be everyday, but sometimes he would go on trips, or something. I miss him when he's gone."

Shiro continued to write. “If this started when you were seven, did your mother know about these interactions? When she was alive?” he asked. I nodded. “Okay,” he said, letting out the breath he was holding in. “I’m going to need you to start from the beginning. Tell me about Elaine. Tell me about your mother.” He looked at me, pen at the ready.

I sat back in the little metal chair. “My mother was amazing. She was the most wonderful, loving person I’ve ever met,” I reminisced. “It was just me and her in the beginning. She taught me everything. Math and literature and all that. Societal guidelines and how to love. Sometimes it was rough because she was home schooling me and working and trying to raise me, but when Pa- when Rico came along, it got easier.”

Shiro wrote in some form of shorthand, so I couldn’t read it. “You said it was hard. Did you ever suffer or go hungry when it was just you and your mother?”

“‘ _Going hungry_ ’ seems a bit extreme to say. It was more like...I was still hungry after I ate? But I’m a boy so, that’s normal, I think. My mom always fed me, though. Even when when I was in trouble, I got to eat. Ah, the good old days.”

“Okay.” Shiro tapped his pen against his mouth. “If you remember, can you give me some examples of things that you would eat while it was just your mother was taking care of you?”

I laughed. “Are you a real detective? What does that have to do with anything?”

Shiro sighed. “Please, Lance. Just answer the question. I need to have a clear record for your lawyer.”

“Lawyer?” I said. “I thought I was just clearing some stuff up so that Rico could go back home.”

Shiro sighed again. “Rico isn’t going home for a while. You’re seventeen, Lance. He beat you with a broken bottle and raped you. That is not okay. You also said that he has been having sex with you almost everyday since you were seven. That is _really_ not okay.”

I threw my hands up in exasperation. “But _I’m_ okay! He is my dad! Parents are _supposed_ to love their children! And he didn’t mean to hit me. He was drunk. It was an accident. I just want to clear his name and go home with him, so I don’t need a lawyer. Heck, what’s that word? Consent! I gave consent!.”

Shiro pulled out a folder and took out a blue piece of paper. “I have a statement from one of your peers saying that he heard you crying ‘ _no_ ’ and ‘ _stop it_ ’. Also," he said looking up. "A seventeen year old cannot legally consent to a fifty eight year old. A seven year old can _certainly_ not give legal consent. No matter how you put it, Rico is in big trouble.” He put the paper down. “Now, you can go home sooner if you cooperate. Can you remember what kind of things you ate before Rico started living with you?”

I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes. I was not pleased with Shiro’s take on the situation. “Milk,” I huffed.

Shiro looked up at me with his eyebrows raised. “And…?”

“Before Rico...um...oh! Sometimes I would get the other stuff.” I waved my hand to try to convey what I meant. “Mommy just said it was dessert.”

Shiro wrote something down and looked at me, unsure. “Can you be more specific?”

I furrowed my eyebrows in concentration. “It’s, like, white, sometimes? Um...it’s been, like, five years but, it was sweet. Like, a weird sweet.” I waved my hand again. 

“And that’s all you remember? Milk and a white dessert?”

I nodded. “That’s everything I had before Pa- Rico came to live with us. If I ate anything else, Mom would get mad and say that I didn’t love her.” I smiled at the memory. “But I was a good kid. She almost never had a reason to get mad at me.”

Shiro sat back in his chair. “Are you telling me that for the first seven years of your life, you only drank milk and ate dessert?” I nodded. “Did you ever see your mother put anything in the milk or dessert?”

I laughed at the question. “I don’t think that’s how the human body works. Milk just has everything that kids need in it. I had to eat, like, six times a day, but that’s how it works.”

The detective was making that shaken face over his notepad again. “You meant breast milk?! What- how long did you breastfeed?” 

“As long as my mother and I were both alive,” I said matter-o-factly.

Shiro looked uncomfortable. “And the desserts? Were they made out of breast milk?”

“Mom said that it wasn’t milk. I think it could be described as the girl equivalent of semen. Though, semen and dessert taste really different.”

Shiro's eyes widened suddenly, making me jump. “Was your mother having sex with you, as well as Rico?”

“Um, yes?” I was starting to get freaked out by Shiro’s reactions. “She was my mother. She's supposed to love me.”

Shiro ran his hand through his white hair floof. “Did they threaten you in any way, Lance? Is there a reason why you never told anyone or why you stayed with them? You are safe here. You can tell me everything.” I seriously doubted that.

“Shiro...can I call you that? Anyways, let me tell you. Love is mutual. If I wanted love, then I had to give love. I was and am in a perfectly healthy and fair situation of giving and receiving love.”

Shiro closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said calmly. “If you can, please tell me about how you met Rico. I need as many details as possible.” He looked liked he didn’t want to say that last part.

I thought for a moment. “When I was seven,” I began, “I went into my mom’s room because I was hungry….

Rico was on top of my mother and she was yelling. I was really confused at first, because she had never loved me like that before then, but that’s what it was. Rico was grunting like an animal. It scared me. I left the room and avoided leaving my own until he was gone.

That was the first time that I saw him.

Two days later, when my mom went to work, Rico stayed over to watch me. He came into my room and closed the door behind him. “Hola,” he said. “¿Eres Lance?” He took my chin in his hands after I nodded yes. “Bien. Bien.” 

Rico kissed me on the lips. He took off my clothes and kissed me all over my body. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I thought that my mom would want me to let him, so I did. I tried to do everything that he commanded. 

I was _really_ confused when he told me to suck his dick. I wanted to do a good job, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Eventually, Rico got frustrated and shoved himself down my throat. That scared the piss out of me. Especially when he started to find a rhythm. He had my head pulled in by the hair and I couldn’t breathe.

My vision had black spots when he let me go. I was crying and hyperventilating like crazy. “It’s okay,” he cooed. “Be quiet,” he whispered. I mostly calmed down and he put his fingers in my mouth. I felt bad about messing up before, so I tried sucking on them. “Good boy,” he praised.

Then, before I knew what was happening, Rico bent me over the side of my bed. He held my legs down with his leg. I tried to look at him, but he grabbed my hair and held me down. I tried to move away when he put his first finger up my tight little ass, but I was already flush against the bed. He hushed at my protests as he added another finger and continued to pump slowly. By the time he added the third finger, I was hyperventilating again.

After I was prepped, he took his fingers out and wiped them on my back. He grabbed my hips to reposition his body, leaving little bruises, before thrusting himself into me. I cried out in pain. He held down my arms with one of his own and covered my mouth with his other hand. I cried and tried to squirm away, but nothing stopped him from pounding mercilessly into my ass.

The way he growled and the way his body jerked when he came scared me. The pain I felt and the blood between my legs scared me. But what scared me most was what happened afterwards. 

I fell off of my bed and onto the ground, where I laid, limp, while Rico started a warm bath. He carried me over like a bride. He washed the cum and blood off and out of me and kissed away my tears. He held me until my fitful hiccups stopped. He pet my hair and purred sweet nothings into my ear. “You’re very beautiful, Lance.” “You are such a good little boy.” “Don’t tell your mommy.” “I love you, Lance.”

"...I don't really think he felt love for me then, but it wasn't long before he really did. That's not a very good example. But that was only the first time that he loved me."

Shiro looked like he was going to be sick.


	2. Keith I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said before, Lance chapters take place after Keith chapters. Also, I gave up on the fake publication dates. Have fun trying to figure out what is happening.

I looked around the high school gym, crowded with people and tables. I was uncomfortable, to say the least. I seemed to be the _only_ kid at enrollment without parents. I didn't recognize anyone, except for a few kids that beat me up in middle school. It seemed that my junior year was going to be just as terrible as the rest.

I had been kicked out of my last school for ' _anger issues_ '. I admit that I had a bit of a temper, but the school's real problem with me was my sexuallity. If I were to remain there, I was going to ' _lead the other children down a dark path_ ' and ' _turn them all into gays_ '. Oh, dang. They caught me. Reflecting back, though, I don’t know what the system was thinking sending me to a Catholic school.

“Kogain?” an older woman at a desk near me shouted. “Keith Kogain?”

I stepped up to the desk, accidently keeping eye contact with the woman the entire time. “Uh, I’m Keith Kogane.”

She forced a smile. “Please,” she motioned. “Take a seat.” I sat in the chair across from her and crossed my legs. “My name is Ms. Ryner. I will be your homeroom teacher during your time here. If you will look at this,” she turned around her laptop. “This is your current schedule. Do you see any problems with it?”

I read the list.

1st Hour- Remedial Math  
Kythylian Mu  
2nd Hour- Technology and Computer Science  
Olkari Ryner  
3rd Hour- Remedial History  
Benjamin Kaltenecker  
4th Hour- Lunch- Intensive Study Hall  
Olkari Ryner  
5th Hour- Remedial English II  
Elton Haxus  
6th Hour- Physical Education  
Mitch Iverson  
7th Hour- Spanish I  
Joaquim Dos Santos

“Wow…” I scratched the back of my neck. “It’s all remedial. I don’t even have lunch. Um...all due respect, but I’m not stupid. I just have ‘ _behavioral problems_ ’. Is there any way I can take regular classes?”

“I’m sorry Keith,” Ms. Ryner sighed. “Your record of incompletes and failed classes has caused this to be necessary for you to graduate on time. However, there is another young man joining my advisory this year that has to take your remedial classes as well. He is my next appointment. If you wait here, you can acquaint yourself with him. Maybe you can help him out this year.”

I looked wryly at my schedule. Why did she ask if I had a problem with my classes if I couldn’t change anything? Also, someone else with the same schedule as me? “Okay,” I sighed. “I’ll wait.” I didn’t have anything better to do. I only hoped that it was someone that wouldn’t push my buttons, if I could stand him in the first place.

Ms. Ryner looked at her watch. It was 10:15am. “McClain?” she yelled. “Lance McClain?” A bell rang in the back of my head. A tall scrawny boy in a green cargo jacket stood and walked over. I noticed that he also didn’t have a parent here. “Lance?” she asked. The boy nodded. “Please, sit.”

During his meeting, I stared at him. I knew it was creepy, but something about him was giving me deja vu. I couldn’t look away.

“Do you have any questions?” the teacher asked Lance after they went over his schedule.

“Yeah,” Lance said. “What is ‘ _remedial_ ’?” I squinted my eyes, as if that would make me remember where I knew him.

“Remedial Classes are for students who did not previously meet proficiency in a certain subject. They are designed to help you to get back on track. Keith here has some classes with you, so you can ask him if you need anything, else.” That was Ms. Ryner’s nice way of telling Lance and me to go away before she called the next name.

Lance followed me to the hallway just outside the gym, where it was a little bit quieter. “I know you,” I said to him, looking into his unnervingly blue eyes. “Say something to help me remember.”

Lance seemed lost at first, but then he smirked. “Something to help me remember.”

I rolled my eyes, but then… “Lance! From kindergarten!” He raised his eyebrows, but gasped in recognition.

Lance had always acted like he was better than everyone else. Especially me. One day in kindergarten, we were supposed to be sharing about our parents. Lance went on and on about how great his mom was. When I said I didn't have any parents, five year old Lance had gasped and asked who loved me if I didn't have a mommy.

I was a hothead back then, too. I had thrown Lance out of his chair and beat him up. After that day, I never saw him again...until now.

“Where have you been?” I asked. “It’s been, like, ten years. And where's that mommy you're so proud of?”

Lance's smile faltered. He looked away. “Oh, mommy’s dead.”

I choked on my own spit. I was not expecting that response. Also, he said that way too casually. “What? What happened?!” Guilt twisted my stomach. I had always wished that Lance knew what it was like to be an orphan, but not _really_.

When Lance looked back, he wore a devilish side grin. “I haven't been around because I was homeschooled. I guess I was too distracting to the ladies.” He flexed his arm under his jacket.

It was clear he was trying to change the subject. I wanted to know what happened to his mom, but maybe it was better to move on for now. 

He stopped flexing after a second. “Really, though. I got in trouble because I was fighting with you all of the time. I was taken out of public school to work on my behavior. But now I've learned to watch my mouth. I know the rules.”

His eye bags were really dark. I didn't notice when he was smiling, but seeing him like this was weird to me. “Well, I'm sorry,” I said. “Um, for fighting with you back then and-”

“It's fine,” he interrupted. “I deserved it. I was a dumb insensitive baby. I wasn't…I'm not...I get it now. I- I know it's kinda late, but I'm sorry.”

I smiled at that. Maybe this year wouldn't be so terrible. “It's okay, man. Like you said, you were a baby. I'm years over it.” I put my hand out for Lance to shake. “Truce?”

He grinned and took it. “Truce.”

Then something in Lance's pocket rang. His attention ticked to fishing a gray flip phone out of his jacket that he answered immediately.

“Hola, Papi. ¿Qué hay?”

I was surprised that someone like Lance didn't have a giant smart phone. Also, did he just say ‘ _hello daddy_ ’?

“I'm at enrollment.” A pause. “For school.” Another pause. “Okay, okay. Hasta luego. Te amo.” Lance put the phone back into his pocket. “Sorry about that,” he laughed sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it,” I shrugged uncomfortably. I had assumed that because Lance was here alone and his mom was dead that he was like me now, but I guessed not. “Do you want to finish enrollment with me?”

Lance slumped his shoulders and his jaw fell open. “There’s more?”

His confusion amused me. “Don’t worry,” I smiled. “It’s easy.”

Psyche! It _should_ have been easy. Lance kept insisting on doing his paperwork all by himself, but he had to ask me about everything on his health form. I didn’t know his answers, though. The guy didn’t even know what an allergy was. I decided that he should leave everything blank, like me, so that no one bothered him about random things. I told him to just be extra careful around new substances.

Lance was a mess. He was very confident in himself, but he didn’t exactly measure up. I wanted to feel satisfied that the kid who hurt my feelings in kindergarten didn’t turn out so well, but his struggling was just so pitiful. He literally ran into the door when we finally finished. This Lance was different from the one I knew so long ago. He wanted to be independent, but he couldn’t be.

I grabbed his wrist before he walked away, and Lance inhaled sharply through his nose. I let go immediately. A record scratched in my head. Did Lance cut? He didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would self harm, but I had to remind myself that I didn’t know everything. He’s got a dead mom and stuff, I guess. “I wanted your number,” I uttered. Real smooth, Kogane. Real. Smooth. 

“Like my phone number? We’re friends?” he beamed. He acted as if the arm thing didn’t happen. 

“We’re not friends,” I asserted. “You’re an acquaintance...at best. I only need it because I bet you’ll get lost and want help. So give me your number.” I held out my hand. 

Lance handed me his phone. I made myself a contact, and while Lance was distracted by a dog across the street, I snooped through the rest of his numbers. There were three total. Jack, Keith, and Papi. I closed the phone and gave it back to Lance, who almost dropped it because he got a text at the same time.

“Hasta la later, Keith,” he sang, walking away after reading his message.

I have every class with this guy _all year_ , I reminded myself.

~-~-~

“Keith! First day of your new school! Wake up!” I opened my eyes to see my new foster mom, Kristen. I didn’t want to be rude, but I couldn’t keep my eye from twitching in annoyance. “Oh, come on,” she persisted. “Look! I had your uniform cleaned so it won’t be so stiff! Isn’t that exciting?!”

This woman needed to find her chill. I knew she was trying, but she was trying too hard. It was freaking me out. I tried to smile back at her, but it ended up being more of a grimace...whoops. 

“I’ll just leave these here,” she chirped, setting down the clothes on the foot of my guest bed.

I winced at my reflection after I donned the horrible orange suit. I looked...really, _really_ dumb.

“Time to go!” Kristen yelled from the front room. I sighed heavily as I lumbered down the hall. “Oh, look at you! You are official now!” she said when she saw me.

“Woo,” I cheered sarcastically.

The car ride to school was super awkward. I would have to come up with some excuse as to why I needed to walk. Walking to school gave me time to think and forced me to wake up before everyone else in the house. I was sick of foster families taking me in, trying to force their life on me, and then dumping me back into the system. It was easier to ignore them for the month or so that they kept me around.

“Have a wonderful day, Keith!” Kristen encouraged before speeding away from my new hell.

“Okay then,” I said to myself.

Luckily, Ms. Ryner’s classroom was close to the entrance I was at. I walked in, already hating life, and slumped into an empty lab desk. Lance still wasn’t here five minutes after the bell. Before I could decide if I wanted him to show up or if I never wanted see him again, he opened the door, breathless.

“I got lost,” he panted. “I’m sorry.” He seemed to forgive himself as soon as he saw me. Maybe I should have marked him down for ADD. “We match,” he stated as he sat down in the chair next to mine.

The first few days were super boring. All we did was go over rules in advisory. At the end of the third day, Ms. Ryner went around, handing out cookies. Lance looked at his like it was going to beat him up, and gave it to me. “You don’t want it?” I asked. 

Lance shook his head. “I can’t.”

On Monday, I felt refreshed from my weekend of not having to hold Lance’s hand through every occurrence and encounter. When the first bell rang, though, it was like he was attached to me by an invisible wire. I tried to lose him a few times, but to no avail. At lunch, he tried to talk to some kids from our science class, Pidge and Hunk. Pidge was an aid for Ms. Ryner and Hunk was there for help with history.

“I haven’t been to school in nearly a decade, but I’m so smart that I picked everything back up right away. Probably way faster than Keith. I’m basically a prodige,” Lance bubbled.

Pidge rolled her eyes and Hunk seemed to take in every word Lance said.

“That’s not true,” I chided. “What’s an allergy?”

Lance blushed as Pidge laughed. “That doesn’t count,” he huffed.

“Wait,” Hunk giggled. “You don’t know what an allergy is? Like, seriously?”

“Little Lancey has been living under a rock for the last ten years,” I said, ruffling his hair. Lance leaned into my touch.

He’s like a dog. An obedient, needy, loving dog boy.


	3. Lance II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reiteration of my damnation.

Shiro rubbed his temples. “How- how long was it before your mother found out about what Rico did?”

“Was doing,” I corrected. 

He winced. “Yes. What he was doing.”

I pursed my lips in thought. “Not very long. Mama found out the next day. She wasn’t very happy at first, but it all got better after that.”

The detective didn’t seem to follow. That was probably irony. “Can you elaborate, please?”

“Do you want the details again?”

Shiro shook his head no. “Yes.” 

_What?_ I mouthed.

“Whatever you can remember,” he said, defeated.

“Oh, okay. So, day after Rico loved me for the first time, I was eating with my mom-”

“You were breastfeeding, correct?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. “Mommy was putting her hands all over my body. They were soft and cold, and it felt good. After I finished eating, I put my ear against the middle of her chest and closed my eyes. I liked to listen to her breathing and heartbeat. She pet my hair with one hand and continued to touch me gently with the other. I was almost asleep when she stopped…

“What is this?” Mommy questioned. I opened my eyes to see what she was talking about. Her fingers were brushing lightly over the bruises that Rico had left on my hips the day before. “What happened?” she said sternly.

I opened my mouth to reply, but Rico had specifically told me not to tell. “It’s a secret,” I said.

She guided my chin so that I was looking at her face. “Lance,” she cautioned. “I am your mommy. You don’t keep secrets from me. You tell me everything. Who did this?”

“I- It was your friend,” I confided. “He said that he loved me. I don’t want to be in trouble, Mommy. I tried to do what he said, but-”

Mama wrapped her arms around me in a warm hug. “Oh, baby. You’re not in trouble.. It’s okay. What did he do to you, mijo?” She rubbed my shoulder with her thumb. It was comforting.

“He went into my butt,” I whispered. “He covered my mouth so that I wouldn’t be too loud. I didn’t like it. I- It didn’t feel right. It hurt.”

Mommy’s eye twitched. “Never let anyone love you unless I give you permission, okay? If someone is hurting you, tell them to stop. Other people aren’t allowed to touch you like me. It’s against the rules. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mommy,” I mumbled sleepily into her neck. I didn’t really understand, but I wanted my mom to be happy again. 

“Hey.” She pulled my hair gently so that I was looking at her again. “I love you, Lance,” she smiled.

I smiled too, and followed her guiding hand into a kiss. Her tongue parted my lips and slid along the corners of my mouth. I allowed my saliva to mix with hers and I sucked on her tongue like it was the source of my next meal.

Mama grabbed my head and moved me lower. “Keep going, baby,” she cooed as I kissed down the middle of her chest and belly. She hummed lightly and ran her fingers through my hair. I kissed at the base of one thigh, then the other. “Such a good boy,” she crooned.

Her slit was already wet. I lapped at the dessert and slid my tongue through every crevice, like I had so many times before. Mommy seemed to melt into the bed in comfort. She liked it when I drooled all over her, leaving trails of my spit and whatever else was mixed in across her body.

Mommy always said that I loved her like nobody else could. When I felt her legs tense under my tiny hands, I knew that I did something right. She gasped and I finished by licking every drop of dessert that she produced. 

“Oh, Lance!” She pulled me up and kissed me again. “I am the luckiest Mommy in the world to have you!” She turned me around so that I was sitting between her legs with my back against her chest. “Now it’s your turn,” she whispered, snaking her hands down my torso to my baby penis.

I smiled in anticipation. I liked it when it was my turn. She held my stomach with one hand, because she liked to feel my muscles tense and relax, and fondled me with the other. It wasn’t long before she had me blushing and panting.

Just then, Rico walked in, and did a double take. “What the hell?” 

“Hold on,” Mama said. “He’s almost there.” As if on cue, I grabbed the sheets and let out a small cry. I would have ejaculated then, but I was too young. My head fell against her shoulder, and I thought I was going to go to sleep, like usual. “Okay,” she continued to Rico. “If you want to love my son, you have to do it right. If you hurt him again, you’re gone. Now come here.”

Rico shuffled awkwardly to the bed. He wouldn’t make eye contact with me.

“Lance,” she instructed. “We’re going to have to teach him how love you right. You know how to start, mijo.”

I nodded. I crawled over to him and stood on the bed. Rico was still standing on the ground, so I was about at head level with him. I grabbed his face in my hands and kissed his lips. He didn’t move. “He’s shy,” I smiled at Mommy. “You weren’t like this yesterday,” I said back to him. I didn’t like his love from the day before, but it would be okay if Mama helped him.

“Now, Rico,” she prompted. “Lance gave you a kiss. Love is supposed to be mutual. If you want it, you have to give it. You, kiss him back. Lance, initiate phase two.” I giggled at that. ‘ _initiate phase two_ ’. Heh.

Anyway, Rico held me by the back of my head and kissed me. I opened my mouth and he greedily filled the space with his tongue. Mommy was watching, so I didn’t want to mess up again. I curled my fingers under the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head, falling back into a kiss after. I put my hands on his chest and scratched at his hair.

“Touch him. Make him feel like you want him to make you feel.” 

Rico scooped my legs out from under me and laid me down on the bed. He kissed from my feet to my knees, then alternated sides down my thighs. He’s always been rather impatient. I was small enough back then that when he put his hands on me, his thumbs rubbed my nipples while he held my rib cage. Then he started to kiss me like he had the day before. I don’t think that there is an inch on my body that hasn’t been in his mouth. He was definitely making me feel something. He did everything that Mommy usually did to me, but with his mouth. It was great.

Or at least it was great until he spread my legs and prepared to enter me. I didn’t remember him taking his pants off, but he was naked. “W- wait,” I said, trying to squirm away. He grabbed my thighs and pulled me back to him. His entire hand fit around each leg. I squeezed my eyes shut and prepared for the worst, but Mama stopped him. 

She handed him a tube that I would later come to recognized as lubricant. “Be careful with my baby,” she said. She gave him a quick kiss and then sat back down on the bed.

Rico smiled down at me. He was excited, I could tell. He squirted the lube onto his hand and rubbed it around my anus. He slipped one finger in at a time until three fit without being pushed back. Then he put lube on his dick. It was standing up like it was looking for something. I knew it was coming, but I still wasn’t ready for the suddenness of his presence inside me. It hurt way less than the day before, but it still hurt. It took everything in me not to scream out loud. 

I was flush all over. I was panting heavily. Mommy crawled over and nuzzled my face. “You’re doing so well, baby,” she cooed. I think that she kissed me after that, but everything was really fuzzy right then. “I’m so lucky to have such a beautiful boy.” She nibbled on my neck and moan fell out of my mouth.

Rico groaned and picked up his pace. It seemed that he went deeper and faster with every thrust. I cried out again. He gripped my legs tighter. He was getting close.

Mommy combed through my hair and licked some of the sweat off of my face. “Such a sweet little boy. I love you so much, Lance.” 

Papi- oh, um- Rico was going really fast at that point. He was panting, I was on the verge of hyperventilating, and Mommy kept combing my sweaty hair off of my sweaty forehead. He pulled out suddenly. 

Mommy directed his precum dripping penis towards my face. “A treat for you, mijo,” she smiled.

I was still trying to catch my breath, so I wasn’t doing a very good job of finishing him off. Turns out that it didn’t matter what I did. He came within seconds of me touching him. When he did, he made the yell grunt noise that scared me, but other than that, I felt pretty accomplished. Rico crawled into bed and promptly fell asleep. Mama licked the semen off of my face and put it in my mouth when she kissed me.They went well together, the sweet taste of Mommy’s mouth and the savoury taste of semen. 

I tried to crawl into bed next to Rico, but my legs and lower back hurt like… I don’t know. They hurt a lot. I took a bath the next morning, but other than that, I didn’t leave the bed for the next few days. There were new bruises on my legs, too. Mommy and Rico didn’t stop loving me though, so that’s good. It took me awhile to get used to having a dad and being loved by him, but I did. Everything got better and better after that…”

Shiro was looking down at his notes. He looked really sad. Maybe he didn’t have parents and I was making him feel bad. I think that I’ve done that to Keith on accident. That made me feel bad.

“Hey,” I said. The detective met my eyes. “It’s okay.” 

Shiro looked like he was going to be angry. “It’s not okay,” he contended. His grip on his pen made his knuckles white. 

“Um…” I tried. “I’m sorry? I didn’t mean-”

“Just-” He let go of his pen. “Your lawyer is a certified counselor. We’re going to help you, Lance. You’re going to get help.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by help, but I didn’t want him to get angry. “Okay,” I sighed. “What else do you want to know?”


	4. Lotor I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... Lotor chapters take place at the same time as Keith chapters and Shiro chapters will take place at the same time as Lance chapters. Sorry if that's confusing¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

I turned the cold water off completely and the hot as high as it would go. It burned, but that was the point. I wanted to scourge the memories of everyone who had ever touched me off of my skin. It was sad if I thought about it, so I tried not to. I instead focussed on how wonderful my shampoo felt on my scalp and in my hands. A man could have the fanciest shampoo in the world and still be sad. I would know. I have the fanciest shampoo in the world.

I stayed under the water, even after it turned painfully cold. This helped me come back to the world in which I was living. Stupid unfair world. At least it’s good for my hair to rinse the conditioner out with cold water.

After wasting all of the time that I possibly could in the shower, I towel dried my hair, combed through it, and walked naked down the hall to my room. I flopped onto my bed in hopes of rest, but just as I had drifted into a state of peace, someone knocked on my doorway. 

“ _What_ ,” I snapped. I hadn’t meant to sound so pissed, but I wasn’t sorry. I was never sorry.

I heard the person who had knocked shift uncomfortably. “Um, Emperor Zarkon commands your presence, Prince Lotor. He’s in the throne room.”

I opened my eyes to glare at Sendak. He straightened his posture and stared back into my eyes, but I could tell that he was doing everything in his power not to look down at my exposed body. I pulled on a t-shirt dress and some sexy underwear, maintaining eye contact with Sendak the entire time. I was terrified of him, but I would never admit it out loud. The only person I hated more than him was my father.

Ever since Zarkon declared my body public domain when I was eleven, I vowed that I would seek vengeance on him and the people, like Sendak, who stole what little innocence I had away from me.

Sendak turned, breaking the stare. I followed him down through the maze of halls to what my father called ‘ _the throne room_.’ It had a fancy chair in the middle of it, but other than that, it didn’t deserve to be called a throne room. The cement walls were stained with time and various bodily fluids. The floor was covered in the blood, old and new, of whores and tenants who hadn’t done as they were told. When my mother wasn’t working in the lab, she was scrubbing this floor. Her efforts were to no avail.

My father was sitting up in his _throne_ with his elbows propped on the armrests. He tilted his chin upward when he saw me. I kneeled before him. “Lord Zarkon,” I greeted. “Why have you called me here?” I stayed on my knees, but met his gaze.

He took his time answering. “I have a new job for you,” came his raspy voice. 

I waited. Sometimes a new job meant that I go on an alcohol run. Sometimes a new job meant that I was going to some foreign country in a few hours to film for a week straight. I hoped that it was the former. 

“Do you remember Lance?” he asked.

I didn’t remember Lance. I probably didn’t want to. He sounded like some skeevy wannabe dom that likes knives a little too much. Maybe he was a drug dealer? I don’t know. “No, sire,” I replied to my father’s question. 

Zarkon crossed his legs comfortably. The slowness of his actions made it clear that you were to wait on him. They made it clear that he was more important than anyone else in the room. They made me angry. “You need to babysit him.”

That caught me off guard. “What?” Of all the things he had made me do, never once had my father asked me to babysit. “Who?”

“Lance,” he repeated. “You took some pictures with him a while back. You need to pick him up from school and watch him until Rico can get him in the morning. There’s a list of rules for you to follow in your car. Have him call you Jack. I don’t want you getting too friendly with him. Do you understand?”

I didn’t understand. Where did any of this come from? “I think that I’m hardly qualified to babysit a...um...Lance. I really-” Father was glaring at me. “I mean, of course, sire. I understand. Vrepit sa.” I stood and made my way for the door.

“And Lotor,” Zarkon called, “if you’re going to spend three hours masturbating in the shower, at least do it in front of a camera and make me some money out of it.” A few men in the room gave low chuckles.

I had learned over the years to conceal my emotions, but my father always managed to find ways to embarrass me. I quickened my pace to leave. All I wanted was to sleep. Maybe I should have napped in the shower, the one place I can be alone. When I got to my car I remembered that I wasn’t wearing shoes. Fuck it. I didn’t care. I wasn’t going back in there.

I sped off to the address at the top of my ‘ _rule list_.’ It brought me to a high school. Wonderful. I love high school. I didn’t see any kids outside, so class must not’ve been out yet. I read over the list while I waited. 

Rules around Lance:  
1- Don’t curse. Don’t use inappropriate slang or euphemisms.   
2- Only give him water and the formula provided. Do NOT feed him solid food. (It makes him sick).  
3- Don’t answer his questions. He doesn’t need to know anything that he doesn’t already know.  
4- Don’t talk about sex. He shouldn’t have the vocabulary to even think about it.  
5- Don’t expose him to media. No books, magazines, movies, shows, music, etc. NO INTERNET.  
6- Don’t put him in any unnecessary danger. He’s fragile. Be careful with him.

I had to read the list four times over before I believed that I was reading it. What was this? Was I taking care of a dog or baby? This was by far the most bizarre situation I’ve ever been in. Don’t feed him solid food? Don’t let him think about sex? How the hell am I supposed to control that?

Oh, fuck. I’m not supposed to curse either. What the hell? How? 

I knew my father hated me, but this was beyond cruel. I crumpled the list and shoved it into the glove box. I didn’t care what Lance’s rules were. If I had to spend the rest of the day and into the next morning with some dog-baby, then I was going to do it my way. Fuck the rules. Screw the consequences. 

The school bell caught my attention. Teenagers flooded the campus like ants. I sat there watching them for some time before I realized that I didn’t know what Lance looked like or how he was going to find me.

I dug the list back out of the glove box and found two phone numbers at the top. One was labeled ‘ _emergency_ ’ and the other was by itself. I decided to call the second one. It rang four times before someone picked up.

“¿Hola?” came a little voice.

I wasn’t expecting Spanish. It took me a moment to think of what to say. “Uhh...¿eres Lance?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end. “Yea- uh, sí. Soy Lance. ¿Eres Jack?”

“¿Dónde estás?” I tried. I really wanted to get out of here and go to sleep. “Ugh. If you speak English, I’m on the west side of the school. Black Jaguar. Ser rápido.” I really hoped that I wouldn’t have to look up how to say that in Spanish. I haven’t tried to use the language in so long.

“I speak English,” Lance giggled. There was a muffling sound. “What is west?” I heard him ask someone else. There was a laugh, followed by an “I’ll show you.”

Most people had cleared out within the first ten minutes of the bell, so it wasn’t hard to notice when two boys rounded the corner. They wore the same orange uniforms that all of the other ants had worn. I stuffed the instructions back into the glove box. “Lance?” I said into the phone. The kid with brown hair turned to the phone in his hand.

“Yeah?”

“Come to the car alone.” I hung up before he had the chance to respond. He turned to the other guy and the black haired kid pointed at my car. Then they parted ways.

Lance climbed wearily into the back seat.

“You’re not going to sit in the front?” I asked.

“I’m not allowed,” Lance said.

“Of course you’re not.” I glanced up at my rear view mirror. Big blue eyes were looking back at me. They were...weird. I think what made them so unnerving was their striking beauty accompanied by dark eye bags. Lance didn’t say anything throughout the entire drive. Every time I dared to glance at the rear view mirror, he was staring right back at me. He looked confused. His gaze could be described as...expectant. He looked like he was waiting for something.

I didn’t want to go back to my father’s hide out, so I took Lance to my place. It was two towns over from my dad’s. He used it mostly for drug storage. On the surface it was an abandoned car wash that had been burned down. I pressed the left button on my garage door remote to open the underground lot. My car was the nicest thing I owned and I intended to keep it that way. I didn’t want any hooligans, such as myself, messing it up.

I got out and started to walk to the doorway of my hideout, but Lance stayed in the car. He looked like a sad puppy that was trapped in a WalMart parking lot. I opened the door for him and he stepped out, continuing to give me that expectant look.

I cleared my throat. “Follow me.” 

He did.

The entirety of my place was bare cement, except for the kitchen. It only had a front room, which was connected to the kitchen, a little hallway that led to my bedroom, and a bathroom. My cronies were all lounging in the front room. Ezor was eating from the bricks of crack in the corner with a plastic spoon. Narti was counting money in the other corner and her cat was sleeping next to her. Zethrid and Acxa were playing a game of Go Fish and passing a joint back and forth between turns.

I motioned to a nasty piece of upholstery foam that was on the ground by the kitchen. “You can sit there.”

“Do you-” Lance couldn’t finish because Ezor had tackled him.

“Intruder!” she yelled. “I’ve got ‘em! No one panic!”

Acxa looked over, but Zethrid passed the blunt back and her attention was taken away.

I pulled Ezor off of him. Lance only blinked at her. “This is Lance,” I told her. “We’re babysitting.” I noticed that he had dropped his phone. I picked it up.

Ezor squealed in delight and wrapped her arms around him. “Laaance!”

I had never had to babysit before. I was probably doing it wrong, but I didn’t sign up for this. It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t know what I was doing. I decided to mix some of Lance’s formula and feed him. Maybe then I could finally go to sleep. “Keep an eye on them,” I told Acxa before heading into the kitchen. She nodded.

I was reading the instructions on the baby food/drink stuff when the little gray flip phone rang. Irritation caused my eye to twitch. I answered it, but didn’t say anything. There was a moment of silence before the caller said, “Hello?” I remained quiet. “Hello? Lance? Was that your ride? Are you okay?”

I hated talking on the phone. I hesitated to come up with an answer. “Lance está durmiendo,” I lied. I hung up and turned the phone all of the way off. I hate phones.

Back to the baby-meal-stuff. While I boiled water, I listened to everyone in the other room. Ezor and Lance were the only ones that I could really understand.

“Try some of this!” she said.

“I’m not allowed,” he replied.

“Why not?” she continued.

“I don’t eat,” he said.

“Hmm,” she hmm’d. “Do you drink?”

“Um...some things. Mostly water, though.”

“How about this?” she offered.

“Is it an allergy? Keith said that new things might be allergies.”

I didn’t know what she was trying to give him, but I assumed that Acxa, or maybe Narti, would intervene if it was something too bad. I heard Ezor giggling.

“Oh,” Lance said. His voice was deeper than what I’d heard so far. “That’s weird.”

Ezor was full out cackling now. “Lance,” she coughed out. She stopped laughing abruptly. A moment of silence passed. She gasped. “Lance?” Then she started crying. “Lance. Stop that.” She cried harder. “No! Stop!”

I put down what I was doing and stepped back in. Acxa had fallen asleep and Zethrid was trying to look at her cards. I turned my head to see Lance shaking and foaming at the mouth. “What did you do?!” I growled. I had literally had Lance in my care for half an hour and he was already dying. Ezor was trying to hold him down, but she was crying too hard.

“He wanted a drink!” she sobbed.

Then I saw the empty vial on the floor. I realized that Ezor had given Lance the new drug that my mother had been working on. It wasn’t ready to be taken. Especially not by a tiny kid like Lance. I pushed Ezor out of the way and shoved my hand down his throat until he gagged and threw up. I kept making him puke until he stopped convulsing. Then I got him some water and made him throw that up until I was sure that everything was out of his system. His heart was still beating and he was breathing, so I decided not to worry that he was unconscious.

I stood and looked down at him. The floor, his uniform, the upholstery foam, and my dress were covered in vomit. Luckily there were no chunks. Great babysitting, I thought. He’s not dead yet. Then I surveyed the rest of the room. “Acxa!” I snapped, waking her up. “This is your fault, so you get to clean this mess up.” She looked at the floor and nodded glumly. Ezor had stopped crying and was eating crack with a plastic spoon again.

I sighed and picked Lance up. I carried him to the bathroom, which was weirdly nice compared to the rest of the hideout. The bathroom had a functioning toilet, sink and bathtub with running hot water. I laid Lance in the tub and began to peel his clothes off. He was very skinny. I mean, I could tell with his clothes _on_ that he was thin, but his nudity revealed his rib cage and prominent hips. He looked like one of the little twinks that my father liked to play with.

Oh, shit. Was Lance one of Zarkon’s boy toys? Fuck, I hoped not.

His wrists and lower forearms were wrapped with gauze. His bandages didn’t have any puke on them, so I decided to leave them be. I studied the rest of Lance’s body. He was hairless. He had light bruises all over, but aside from his bandaged wrists, no major wounds. The longer I looked at him, the more I thought he was one of my father’s pets. The only thing that made me think otherwise was the lack of the little tattoo that signifies someone as a part of the company, and the fact that he goes to school. Zarkon usually kept his toys in little closets until he was ready to play.

Lance stayed asleep when I turned on the water. I decided to leave it running while I changed clothes in my own room. When I came back, he was still asleep. I brushed his teeth with Ezor’s toothbrush because I was mad at her. Then I carried him to my bed, away from the others. It’d probably be weird for him if he woke up naked in a place he’d never been before, so I slid the least scandalous underwear I could find, some briefs, onto his legs and tucked him under my covers. He looked like a puppy that was snuggled up with his litter, except Lance was all alone. How tragic.

I left him to sleep. The farther away he was from everything, the better. When I reentered the front room, I remembered how much _I_ wanted to sleep. Acxa had started cleaning the vomit, but now her and Zethrid were snuggling on the nasty ass upholstery, also asleep.

I couldn’t deal with them right now. I was busy trying to care for a child that I had just met two hours prior. I headed back into the kitchen. All of my water had boiled away, so I started over. With every move I let out another sigh. When I finally finished mixing Lance’s formula, and thinking about how fucking weird it is that Lance eats (drinks?) formula, I took it back to my room. He was still asleep.

The instructions on the box of his baby protein shake said to consume within thirty minutes, so I nudged his shoulder to wake him up. He opened his eyes and blinked slowly. I handed him the fruits of my labor. He drank all of it without saying anything and then fell back asleep. “Okay then,” I said. “You sleep here and I…” What was I saying? There was nowhere else for me to sleep. I didn’t want to sleep on the floor, so maybe I could move Lance to the floor and I’d take my bed.

Maybe I’d come up with something if I took another shower. I sat down and meditated in what was left of the hot water. I didn’t figure out where I would sleep, though. My meditation only concluded that I was really horny. I had just filmed that morning, but I had been forced to bottom. I’m not a bottom and I never have been. I tried beating off in the shower, but I couldn’t get myself up. Then I remembered the perfectly good twink sleeping half naked in my bed. That might work. If he belonged to my father, then I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.

Then I remembered the instructions. It only said that Lance shouldn’t have the _vocabulary_ to think about sex. It never said that he wasn’t to participate in the act. Besides, this was my time. I could do whatever I wanted.

I dried myself off quickly, not bothering to put on any clothes. Lance was talking in his sleep when I came back in. “Mama,” he murmured. He was crying. He was very quiet, though. I’d never have noticed that he was even in the room if I hadn’t come in for him.

The head on my shoulders told me to comfort him, but the head between my legs told me to fuck him. They had an argument and decided that if he was a virgin, we’d let him be. If not, his ass was ours.

Lance shuddered. 

I kneeled on the bed next to him. “Lance,” I whispered. He didn’t wake up. I pushed his shoulder this time. “Lance!”

His eyes snapped open and he looked like he was about to cry out, but he swallowed the noise and took a shaky breath. I was astonished at how quickly he calmed down. 

God damnit. I couldn’t do it. Not when he was like this. I started to go, but Lance grabbed my wrist. I turned right into his wet blue eyes. 

“Please don’t leave me alone,” he nearly whispered.

Okay, maybe I could do it. I pushed his shoulders down so that his back was against the bed. I crawled over Lance and straddled him, wiping the tears off of his face. “One condition,” I said.

His eyes seemed to get wetter. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

Fuck, that was hot. “Are you a virgin?” I asked slowly.”

He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What’s a virgin?”

I forced myself not to smile. “I can find out if you are. Would you like me to do that?”

He nodded.

I pulled the blanket down off of his chest. The chill of the air made his nipples perk up slightly. “All you have to do,” I instructed, “is be still. Don’t move at all.” He nodded. Then he realized that this was movement froze his head in place. I smirked to myself. Lance was so easy.

I ran my hand over his chest, just to touch his skin. He didn’t resist. I took his hand and acted like I was examining it. I skimmed his arm, touching his bandages, and his bicep, and his collar bone. I went over the other arm and lightly kissed his fingers. I glanced over at his face to see how he would react. He only stared back at me like he had been all day. I moved back over his chest. I pretended to inspect his nipples as I circled them and pinched them to dry stones between my fingers.

I slid my thumb and ring finger down his ribcage and messed with his belly button. Can a belly button be beautiful? Because Lance’s was. I moved down again and played with the hem of his (my?) underwear. I traced his hips a few times before finally pulling them off of his long thin legs. Damn. Leggy boy. The action of undressing him with the intent to fuck aroused me, probably more than it should have.

I tickled the bottom of his feet, tracing the arch back and forth. He tried so hard not to move, but he flinched slightly. I ran my fingers slowly up the inside of his legs and down his penis when I got there. He wasn’t hard. I lifted his dick and tried to appear to study his hairless balls, but really I poking at them to get him erect. I slid a finger across the seam and back of his shaft. It twitched. 

I pulled back his foreskin and circled the head with my tongue. His legs shifted under me. I sent a glare to his face and he straightened his legs back to where they had been. I gave him a blow job, but at a rate that was painfully slow, even for me. He really seemed to like it when I dipped the tip of my tongue into his urethral opening. I only did it to get him up, though. Not to get him off. I took a minute to appreciate my mad skills.

Then I took his legs and lifted them. I brought his knees to his shoulders. “Hold these,” I commanded. He obeyed without hesitation and grasped his thighs. I checked out his ass. I couldn’t see it very well in the dark, but it looked clean enough. Hopefully, since this kid never eats, I wouldn’t get shit on my dick tonight. 

I considered eating his ass, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I grabbed some lube out of my bedside drawer and applied copious amounts all over him. “Don’t move,” I reminded. I didn’t have time to prep him. Excessive lube would have to do. I had barely gotten a condom on before I thrust into him.

He gasped, but again seemed to swallow a cry. As I picked up the pace, I noticed his grip tighten and relax, then tighten again.

I probably should’ve been a little more careful with him, but I was tired and I was desperate. The sooner I let off my load, the sooner I could go to sleep. I changed my angle to make myself more comfortable and dear gods above and below the sound he made. I must have found his prostate. He let go of his legs to clench the sheets. His ass clenched around me at the same time. It was the purest thing I had ever seen. I came immediately. I thought that I should ride off my high, but I kept hitting his spot and I got lost in his twitches and howls. It wasn’t long before I found myself hard again. 

Most people in the porn industry were fake as hell. Everything they did was forced and annoying. Lance, however, was full of raw sincerity. It was beautiful. I don’t know how I managed to refrain from cursing throughout the experience. I had entranced myself with Lance. I stopped processing that he was a living, breathing person beneath me. I started seeing an object. An extremely arousing sack of flesh that made different wonderful noises if you hit the right buttons.

I came five times before I was finally finished for the night. I had no idea about Lance, but there was a fair amount of semen on us that wasn’t mine. Curiously, I tasted a bit. It was sweet, as far as semen goes. I moved out from under him and his legs thwomped onto the bed. 

Lance was sleeping. Fuck, I hope he fell asleep _after_ I finished in him. I am a monster, but there is a line.

I threw my overflowing condom on the floor and wiped myself and Lance down with baby wipes. Those ended up on the floor as well. I would pick them up later, after some rest. I crashed into the mattress, between Lance and the wall. I was almost asleep when I heard a little peep from beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

I opened one eye to look at him. “Why?”

He hesitated. “I moved when you said to be still… I’m sorry.”

I let my eye close. “It’s okay,” I mumbled. “You were good.” I sounded like such a fucking creep. Zarkon would _kill_ me if he knew what I did. Not because I had sex with a minor, but because I had sex for free. I opened my eyes and pinned Lance’s shoulders to the bed again. “You don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

He licked his lips. “Like a secret?”

“Yes. Exactly like a secret.” I pushed slightly harder on him to enforce my statement. “You tell _no one_ about this.” 

He nodded. Now that I didn’t have to worry about my father, I relaxed again.

I was almost asleep, _again_ , when Lance shifted. He was cuddling me. I was not the cuddling type. I pushed him off. “So am I?” he asked.

I waited for him to elaborate. “Are you what?”

“A vegan,” he said like it was a bad word.

I was confused at first, but then I caught on. “A virgin?” I laughed. He snuggled himself back against my chest. I was going to push him off again, but it was too much effort. I had already broken so many of my rules that night. What was one more? 

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Am I a virgin?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” I smirked slyly. “You’re not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heh...vegans


	5. Keith II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo...I don't speak Spanish, so if you do and notice something wrong, please correct me.
> 
> Also, I don't like trigger warnings because spoilers and, like, if you haven't been triggered yet, you're doing it wrong, but tw.

I couldn’t focus in math. I kept looking up at the door to see if Lance was going to walk in, late as usual, but he never did. He had gotten into that weird car with that weird guy and I hadn’t heard from him since. I had tried calling, but someone else had answered. We were three weeks into school, and if I had learned anything it was that Lance was an idiot. If he had gotten himself killed, I was going to kill him.

In second hour, I told Hunk and Pidge about my concerns. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t care about anything...or anyone. It’s just that Lance made me nervous. I’d never seen him eat, he flinches when people touch his arms, and he’s constantly getting lost. I probably just have a natural human instinct to protect the weak, or something. Being around Lance must activate it.

The next hour, in history, Lance still didn’t show. He was probably just sick or something, but the strange circumstances of the last time I had seen him left a doubt in my mind. All of the horrible possibilities that I was thinking, Hunk was fretting out loud. 

“Hunk,” I eventually snapped. “You’re not helping.”

Then two hands were on my shoulders, distracting me from my nervous friend. I thought that maybe it was Lance, and he had walked in when I had turned away, but I didn’t recognize the voice. “Worried about your _boyfriend_?” they whispered harshly. Then I heard sniggers behind me. I knew that the bullies would show up at some point, I just didn’t want it to be now. After I didn’t answer, his grip on my shoulders tightened. “You’re fucking gay, aren’t you?” Oh, damn. He got me.

“He’s that fag from middle school. Fucking disgusting.”

Anger. That seemed to be my default emotion. I stood up out of my chair and turned to face them, three guys that I recognized as the kids who always watch porn in Remedial English. “So what if I am gay?” I spat.

They started yelling and barking with laughter. “He said it! He admits it! He’s a fucking faggot!”

I was getting ready to fight. I barely acknowledged Hunk’s advice to ignore them. I took a step towards them when someone cleared their throat behind me. The hollering was suppressed to giggles. “Mr. Kogane,” Mr. Kaltenecker said. “To the counselor’s office.”

I whipped around in surprise. “Are you kidding me?”

His eyes widened at my response, but he regained his composure. “What? No, you have a pass.”

I looked down at the green slip of paper that he was holding out to me.

Class: KALTENECKER Room: _425_  
Student: KEITH KOGANE  
__x__to the office _____to the library  
_____to check out _____to the nurse

“Oh,” I said quietly. “Sorry.” I took the pass and made my way to the eleventh grade counselor’s office. Her door was open, but she asked me to close it when I entered. There was a cop sitting in there, who smiled at me when I made eye contact. I’d been arrested a few times before and I did not like it. I didn’t really like cops either. I sat warily, two seats down from him. I really had no idea what was going on. If I was about to be arrested for being gay, I was going to lose my shit. 

The counselor was typing away at her keyboard before she addressed me. “Keith?” she asked. I nodded. “You’re an only child yes?”

The fuck? Straight to the point. Okay. “I’m an orphan,” I told her.

She blushed slightly. “Yes, well, we want to help you. So I guess we have to start somewhere. Do you think that your loneliness is what causes you to lash out? Do you think that it’s the source of your behavioral issues? Do you think that moving between foster homes for most of your life hurt you?”

I was extremely uncomfortable. Of course that’s why I was so screwed up, but where did any of this even come from? I hadn’t done anything all year so far. I mean, it had only been three weeks, but, like, still. “Look, lady,” I said. “I’m alone, not lonely. I’m sure you think you’re helping, but you’re really not. You’re only making me feel worse for being born into shitty circumstances. I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but you’re wasting my time. Like, I’m trying to graduate, so I’d rather not miss class.” I started to stand, but she blocked the door with a meter stick. Where the hell did she get that?

The bell rang, so it was lunch now.

“Mr. Kogane,” she asserted. “Sit down.” I did as she said. “I _will_ help you, but this isn’t about me. This is about you. I know that life is hard for you right now, but it will get better. For example, have you ever heard of the Big Brothers Big Sisters program?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess?” I recognized the name, but that was about it.

She sighed. “The state wants you to have a role model, so this guy-” she gestured to the cop with the meter stick “-is going to be your big brother. You’re going to spend time with him and you’re going to learn from him. Got it?”

I stared at her for a minute. I looked at the policeman and then back at my counselor. “The state wants some cop to babysit me so that I don’t get into any trouble, you mean.”

The counselor closed her eyes and flared her nostrils. “That’s all I needed to tell you. You can go back to class now.” She started typing again, faster than before. 

“Okay,” I breathed, standing. I was halfway down the hall when the cop guy stopped me.

“Keith! Wait.”

I turned and raised my eyebrows at him. “May I help you?” I said with no intent of helping. Now that he was closer, I noticed a weird scar that stretched across his nose. I wondered how that had happened.

“At least let me introduce myself before you run off.” He sounded like he genuinely wanted to get to know me. Ugh. I faced him with my body to indicate that I was listening. “Right,” he said. “My name is Takashi Shirogane, but people call me Shiro. _You_ can call me Shiro. I’m a detective in this county. Um...you’re Keith.”

I started walking towards class again. Shiro followed. 

“What uh- what’re some things that you usually do?”

I rolled my eyes, but then I realized that he couldn’t see my face. “Oh, you know,” I said casually. “Raising hell, getting in fights, avoiding people, hiding from cops~.” On that last one I gave him a long side glance. That made Shiro laugh. It wasn’t a fake or nervous laugh, like most adults had around me. I had to fight the smile trying to form on my own lips. I was supposed to be angry right now. Angry people don’t smile. “This is my class,” I grunted when we approached Ryner’s room.

Shiro opened the door for me with a fingerlessly gloved hand. What a gentleman. “Okay then. See you later, Keith! It was nice meeting you!”

“Whatever,” I grumbled, entering the science classroom. I scanned the room to find Hunk and Pidge. “Lance!” He was sitting with his head on the table, but he perked up when he heard my voice.

“Keith! I was worried about you!” he exclaimed.

That made me laugh. “You’re the one who was gone. Why were you so late to school?”

Lance plucked at his sleeves. “I had to clean my uniform.” He seemed ashamed.

I sat down next to him and smiled teasingly, like I didn’t notice his demeanor. “You had to randomly clean your uniform in the middle of the week?”

Pidge snorted. “That is such a Lance thing to do.”

Lance seemed confused, as usual. “I threw up on it, so we had to wash it.”

Hunk’s cheeks darkened slightly with a blush. 

That wasn’t the answer that I had expected. I needed to know more. “If you threw up, then why didn’t you stay home all day?” I questioned.

It was Lance’s turn to laugh. “I would miss way too much school if I stayed home everytime I puked.” He couldn’t have known what he was saying. His smile didn’t falter once, despite what he was implying. “Oh! That reminds me,” he cheered. “Papi wants you four...uh, three to all come over after school. He said that he wants to talk to you about something.”

Hunk was the first to agree. Pidge dug out her phone to ask her dad. I considered asking Kristen, but then she would try to drive me home and talk to me and I didn’t think that I could handle her voice today. I told Lance that I would go.

Everyone pulled out their work after that, and I bent down to do the same except that I didn’t have my bag. “Fuck,” I said under my breath. “I think I left my bag in Kaltenecker’s.” 

Hunk slid over my backpack from under his chair. “I’ve got you, buddy.” What a guy, that Hunk. “Where’d you go anyway?”

I groaned, remembering my annoyance at the whole affair. “They’re making me do this thing where this cop guy is like my big brother, or something. I think that they’re really just trying to get someone to keep an eye on me, though. I’m not too fond of cops...or associates, really.”

I was expecting everyone to say their Amens and agree with me. They did not do that.

Pige loudly finished her Capri Sun (because we’re high schoolers, dammit). “Bro... My dad is, like, Chief of Police...and my brother is a detective...and I’m going into the academy as soon as I graduate.”

Hunk scratched the back of his head. “I’ve been volunteering at the police department for, like, half of my life. I plan to go to the academy, too…”

I stared at them for a minute. How did I not know this? 

Lance spelled out the word ‘ _police_ ’ on his paper. “Like that?” he asked. “On their sleeves?” Everyone nodded. He smiled, glad to know what everyone was talking about for once. “I’ve seen police before. They came to my house when Mama-” His smile faltered. “I’ve seen them before,” he repeated.

Hunk was quick to change the subject. “You guys wanna see a picture of a dog that I saw this morning?”

It was the most awkward lunch period of my life. Pidge kept giving me weird looks for saying the cop thing. Hunk kept trying to break the tension by offering everyone food, but that only made it worse when I tried to get Lance to eat some. He looked like he was going to cry or something. I was so thankful when the bell finally rang. Or at least I was until I remembered that I had English next. A crumpled piece of paper was shoved into my hand in the hallway. I suspected that it was the homophobes from earlier. I unfolded it to read:

“kieth koGAY,  
you have 24 hrs to proove that your no homo or were going to beet you up and your boyfriend to”

It was so poorly written that I almost laughed. Almost. The whole situation was peeving me quite a bit. _Every_ situation, really.

In English, the bullies were watching porn on full volume, as usual, and Mr. Haxus was doing _nothing_ about it, as usual. They kept laughing and saying shit like, “the bottom one is him,” and then they’d point at me or Lance and chuckle until they said it again.

I guess that I had never realized how many classes that Lance and I had with them until today. At least two of them were in every hour. In gym class, after Mr. Iverson had barked at us for ten minutes, we all went into the locker room to change. I told Lance not to stick so close to me. I thought that maybe the bullies would leave us alone if we weren’t together. That was a mistake. 

Two guys grabbed him and pulled him to the opposite corner as soon as we entered the room. What kind of highschool boys plan an ambush? He gasped in both surprise and pain when they grabbed his arms. “Hey. You’re hurting me,” he grimaced. Lance didn’t fight back at all. They twisted his arms until he cried out. He kind of sounded like a kitten that a child squeezed a little too hard. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of his eyes. 

I was so angry that I couldn’t see straight. “Let him go!” I screamed. “He didn’t do anything to you!” 

The ugliest of the batch grabbed Lance’s hair and looked me straight in the eyes. “We’ll let him go after you listen to us,” he said. If looks could kill, they’d all be dead. “We have a little rule ‘round here. That’s no fags allowed. You and this twink are breaking that rule, so I reckon you should leave. If you prove that you’re not filthy homos, then you’re safe… If you can’t, then you can kill yourselves or _we’ll_ kill you. Disappear and get your disgusting selves away from us.”

Someone said, “Amen.”

I was doing everything I could not to beat all of them to bloody pulps right at that moment. “I listened,” I said through gritted teeth, “so let Lance go.” They shoved him to the ground and a few of themkicked him while he was down. As soon as they got away from him, I rushed to his side. 

Just then, Iverson stomped in. “What is going on here!” he yelled. “Why have you wasted ten minutes of class time and none of you are dressed still?!”

The ugly one stepped forward. “These fags were trying to touch us, sir! We was just tryna protect ourselves.”

“Seriously?” I grunted.

Iverson bought it and turned on us. “You two-”

“Uh oh” Lance uh oh’d. “I got blood on my uniform.” I whipped around to see him cradling his wrists in his lap. A little stream of blood was following the lines on his hands and pooling in his palms. I was beyond furious.

“Then go to the nurse!” Iverson huffed. “Don’t let me see you back here until tomorrow!” I helped Lance get to his feet. As we were leaving I heard Iverson mutter something about ‘ _pussy faggots_ ’. I hate this fucking state.

It had been a really shitty day, but at least it was almost over.

The nurse wasn’t in his/her office, but I didn’t think that Lance knew that someone should’ve been there because he went through drawers and cabinets until he found what he needed: a clean towel, antibiotic cream, and gauze bandages. Maybe he’s not totally helpless. He was about to pull up his sleeves, but then he thought better of himself and started unzipping his uniform. I faced the other way to save his modesty. 

“Keith,” he said. “The zipper is stuck.”

I turned with a grunt, unzipped his uniform (which of course he wore no shirt under), and stomped outside. I realized that I was really curious to see his arms. I assumed that he cut, but I wanted to see. Then I was mad at myself for thinking that. I stood by the door like I was guarding it. In my head I was warring at whether or not I would peek at him. What if he needed help in there? I mean, it was Lance. He needed help with everything. I went back into the office and closed the door behind me.

“All done,” he smiled. He had wrapped both of his forearms with white gauze, which contrasted nicely with his skin. I was both grateful and disappointed that he had finished before I could see. The bandages were even and precise, as if wrapped by a practiced hand. That made me kind of sad. It looked like he was wearing leg warmers, but they were for arms. 

I stared at his bare upper half for probably longer than I should have. He was just so _skinny_. The shoulder pads of his uniform had really masked his slender frame. His ribs looked like they were trying to escape from under his skin. There were bruises all over his arms and torso. Lance would probably bruise if someone ran into him in the hallway, but people pushing him down and kicking him wasn’t helping. He turned around to pick up his shirt. His spine and shoulder blades looked like dinosaur spikes on his back. “Keith?” he asked, facing me.

I forced my eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Will you help me zip this?” He slipped his arms in the sleeves of his jacket. It was weird now. When everyone else was just getting dressed, Lance was donning a second skin, like armor. “Keith?”

I shook myself from my thoughts. “Yeah. Of course.” I zipped his top closed, hiding his tiny body from the outside world. Those bullies would really kill Lance if they got a hold of him. Maybe I should go back into the closet for a little while. Maybe then they’d leave him alone. I was still holding the zipper under his chin. We were very close. I could feel his breath on my face. “Lance?”

A beat of silence. “Yeah?” Through my peripheral vision I saw those big blue eyes look up at me, but I couldn’t meet them. I stared at his lips instead.

“You should wear clothes under your uniform.”

“Oh.”

After that, we wandered the halls for a bit. We couldn’t go back to Iverson’s, but Sr. Dos Santos said that we could just stay in his room. It was his planning hour anyway. I’d never been a teacher’s favorite, but Dos Santos absolutely adored Lance, so I got the perks too. Lance laid his head down on his desk and closed his eyes. When class did eventually start, I counted two bullies. ‘ _One more hour_ ,’ I told myself.

“Buenas tardes clase,” Señor greeted. “Hoy es jueves, which means that we will review today before your test mañana. Today we will play Verdad o Reto, Truth or Dare. I took out the frisky cards, so don’t worry about that. This will help you practice the simple commands and questions that you have learned so far. Please circle up into groups of siete. Then I will pass out the cards. You will have ten seconds to answer the question or perform the action. Vámanos.” 

Lance and I sat near the front. A group of girls joined us so that we had six. I watched the other students, mostly freshmen, mill around the room until they took timid seats on the ground next to strangers. One person was left standing. It was one of the bullies.

“Aaron,” Sr. Dos Santos addressed. “Come sit here in Lance’s circle.”

 _Aaron_ sat across from Lance and me, sneering. I narrowed my eyes at him in distaste. Lance smiled at him, like an idiot.

The girls were the first to ask each other questions and give dares. They couldn’t stop giggling when one girl went to the door instead of the board. It was a while before they included the three other people in the group. “Keith,” one girl said. “¿Verdad o reto?”

I sighed. “Verdad.”

She drew a card. “¿Cómo se llama tu madre?”

I sighed again. “No tengo una madre.” There was a brief awkward silence. Now it was my turn, I guess. “Aaron. ¿Verdad o reto?”

He wrinkled his nose at me. “Verdad.”

I drew a card. “¿Tienes hermanos?”

Aaron bit the inside of his cheek. I found a strange comfort in the fact that he didn’t know the answer. I mean, he had power, but at least I was better than him. “No,” he guessed eventually.

“Wrap it up, clase!” Señor said. “Two or three more rounds. Make sure everyone gets to go!”

“Uh, Lance,” Aaron said. “¿Verdad o reto?”

“Reto,” he replied immediately. He was tapping his shoe. He was ready to do whatever that card said in ten seconds or less.

Aaron drew a card and looked at it for a few moments. “I don’t know what this says,” he stated eventually, handing it to Lance. 

I leaned over to read the card. It read, “Bese a la persona a tu derecha.” That was definitely not one of our phrases. I didn’t recognize any of the words.

Lance grabbed my chin and pulled me into a kiss. What? Why was he doing that? The girls in our group were squealing. My face burned from blushing so hard. I couldn’t help but note how soft his lips were. It was annoyingly pleasant. When he pulled away I touched my own lips with my fingers. Aaron smiled cruelly and slid a single finger across his throat. Why had Lance done that? We were so fucked.

Sr. Dos Santos picked up the card. “Whoops! I missed one of the frisky ones,” he laughed. He looked at the card again and furrowed his eyebrows. “Lance...derecha means right.”

Lance did a double take and made “L’s” with his hands. He lifted the left one. “Right.”

Señor sighed. “That’s left, mijo.”

Lance seemed startled. “What?”

I got over my shock of being kissed. Lance just wanted to win the game. He obviously didn’t mean anything by it. “Lance,” I said. “Your name starts with an ‘L’.”

He looked at his hands again. “Oh.”

Dos Santos chuckled to himself. “Go ahead and pack your bags, children. You can leave as soon as the bell rings.”

Lance and I met up with Hunk and Pidge after class. They asked how the rest of our day was, but I wasn’t too keen to talk about it. Lance called his dad and we all road in Hunk’s car to his house. Lance looked out of the back seat window like he wanted to take in every detail that the world had to offer. When we finally arrived at the small yellow house, a tall, dark hispanic man opened the door.

Lance beamed at him. “¡Hola, Papi!” He gave the man a kiss on the lips and wrapped his arms around him. “Te extrañé.”

The man, Lance’s dad, I guess, embraced his son, I guess. “Yo también, cariño.”

During the few moments of awkward hug-silence I decided to observe my surroundings. It was a small house. The front door opened into a small living room. The living room had a couch, a sofa chair, and a coffee table. The coffee table had candles on it, but they were the only things in the room. That was too many candles, I think. Next to the living room was a kitchen. It was dark, so I wasn’t able to note very many details. On the other side of the living room was a hallway, which I assumed led to the rest of the house. There were no lights on, but dark curtains were drawn back, letting in daylight. 

The hug ended. “Voy a vomitar,” Lance smiled. He started walking down the little hallway. I really wished that I knew what he was saying. I’d have to get better at Spanish if I was going to be around him for the rest of high school. I think that ‘voy’ means ‘go’ or something, but I wasn’t sure about the rest. 

There was a sound like a basketball hitting hard concrete.

His dad winced. Then he sighed. “He ran into the door.” I was a little surprised to hear English, but I was more concerned with what he said than how he said it. 

Normally we all would have laughed- Lance was the butt end of most of our jokes- but something about his dad’s reaction stopped us. “What’s wrong with him?” I said without thinking.

Pidge shot me a scolding mom glare.

“That is what I wish to speak to you all about,” Lance’s dad concurred. He gestured at the couch. “Please, sit.” We all did. His dad sat in the arm chair. “You are the friends of Lance, yes?” Hunk and Pidge nodded. His dad looked at me. “And you are Keith?”

I stared at him for a second in surprise. “Uh, yeah.” 

He gave a curt nod, as if to solidify the information. He kept checking behind him at the hallway that Lance had gone down. A constant look of worry wrinkled his face. He was a lot older looking than I had expected. He sighed again. Being around Lance makes people sigh a lot. “I love my child very much,” he started, “but Lance is not very good at...he does not have much skill in...he does not have much skill. He is very trusting and very easy to take advantage of. I wish for you all to help him. To protect him. He has many troubles.”

Pidge furrowed her brow, like when we took notes in science, as if she was going to be tested on this new information.

“I wish for you three to keep him away from bad things,” Lance’s dad continued. “Television, music, internet, news, bad language, books, sex, drugs, violence, bad people. I fear that some things in these might… I do not know the word in English. I fear that these bad things might make Lance go over the edge. He is a very sweet boy. I do not wish for him to be hurt. It is better that he is not exposed to bad things.”

Hunk, Pidge, and I sat in a sort of silent shock. I thought about all of the ‘ _bad things_ ’ that had happened just today. How were we supposed to protect Lance from the horrors of high school?

Lance’s dad ran a hand over his face. “His mother passed a few years ago. Lance was very close with her. He was devastated. He stopped leaving his room for a while. He stopped eating. He used to play and be active, but now he sleeps most of the time. It is very hard to see him this way. If you would shield him from more hurt… And don’t try to make him eat. I believe you think you are helping, but you are not.”

Just at me next time, Lance’s dad. Also, hadn’t I said just exactly that to the counselor earlier today? I guess a lot of people think that they’re helping. I was angry. How dare Lance be like this? Why does the happiest part of my life get to be so sad?

After the little talk, Lance’s dad went back to check on his son. Hunk, Pidge, and I stayed on the couch for a little while in silence. Eventually Pidge's dad came to pick her up. She offered me a ride, but I declined. When Hunk decided to go, he also offered me a ride, but I declined again. I wanted to walk. I needed to think.

The sun was setting. That made me mad too. The sky was blue and the sun was yellow. The light and dark didn’t mix in any beautiful way. It was painfully ordinary. The sun went down and I realized that I didn’t know where I was going. It was dark and I wasn’t familiar with this part of town. 

Whatever. I didn’t care. I was too upset to worry about things that didn’t matter. I continued to storm down the road.

This was the shitiest day of my life. First, the bullies at school had reared their ugly faces, which I normally wouldn't care about if it weren’t for the fact that they were threatening Lance too. That bullsht with the counselor and the whole big brother thing happened. I almost had friends, but they probably hated me now because of the shit I had said about cops. Then Lance had finally showed up only to get attacked in the locker room, be stared at by me in the nurse's office, and to kiss me in Spanish. I mean… he fucking kissed me! 

I kicked something off the sidewalk in frustration. It was a fire hydrant. Fuck! 

My phone fell out of my pocket and made a disheartening _clack_ against the concrete. I picked it up and the thankfully unbroken screen lit up to tell me that I had 43 missed calls and one voicemail from Kristen. Damn. Why couldn’t she have just texted me or something? I tried to unlock my phone with my fingerprint, but the night was too cold. It was the beginning of September in Texas. It shouldn’t have been cold. I mistyped my password a few times because my fingers were starting to get stiff. Worst. Day. Ever. 

I finally got the voicemail to play. Kristen wasn’t her usual overly cheery self on the recording.

“Keith, its Kristen. I really don’t want to leave this in your inbox, but I’ve been calling you since you got off school and you haven’t answered. That’s actually kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I really wish that I could be saying this to you in person… You never came home today. You leave without telling me where you are going far too often. You can’t even be bothered to answer my calls. I’m trying to help you, Keith. I really am. I think that this is for the best, though...for both of us. My efforts obviously aren’t working for you. This isn’t really working for me either. I don’t need the stress of wondering where you are constantly or what’s wrong with you. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better foster parent. I tried, Keith. I really tried, but I think it will be better for you if you try to find a different home. I didn’t find any of your stuff in the house anyway, but you can tell me if you left anything and I’ll take it to you. I’m sorry that everything turned out this way. I was going to take you to the orphanage, but I have no idea where you are. You’re supposed to go back there tonight. I really hope that everything turns out okay for you, but I obviously wasn’t meant to be the one to help you. I’m really sorry to leave this on your voicemail. I just… Goodbye, Keith.”

There was a click to signal that the message was over.

I stood in silence and lowered my phone slowly away from my face. I was shocked. I should have expected this. I _did_ expect this, but that didn’t stop the the ache in my chest. I couldn’t count the number of times that this had happened before, but that didn’t stop the pull on my stomach. It didn’t stop the ringing in my ears or the tears on my face. I looked up at the sky and screamed at it. I told myself that I didn’t care. I didn’t want to care, but I really did. 

The stars faded. Was I dead? No, I wouldn’t be so lucky. It was probably just a stupid panic attack. I vaguely remember someone asking me if I was okay before everything totally went black. 

Fuck.


	6. Lance III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I don't speak Spanish. For Lance chapters, just assume that Papi is speaking Spanish and Lance is translating. I try to use actual Spanish for Keith chapters because Keith isn't supposed to understand what they're saying.

Shiro kept rubbing his face. “Your mother… Did she leave you with Rico when she had to work, or were you left alone?” The detective took a drink from a mug that I hadn’t noticed before and set it back on the table, extending his pinky so that it didn’t make noise. He looked at up at me, pen ready. 

I blinked a few times. “When she worked…” I mumbled. “I went to school...before. Then… Mostly Rico stayed with me, but Papi had to work too, and then I would stay home, uh, alone.”

Shiro turned a yellow page in his notebook. “Do you know what they did for work? How much they made? How many jobs they had?” He rubbed his nose. He had tan lines on his hands from fingerless gloves, which he wasn’t wearing. That reminded me of Keith. Keith was _always_ wearing his fingerless gloves.

“Mommy had two jobs, I think. She worked at a store, and she used to take pictures of me. Pap- oh, Rico did stuff with cars when I was younger, but he started other work after Mama-”

“Go back,” he said. “Your mother took pictures of you as a job?” I nodded. “Did she- did she make you do anything?”

I rubbed my ankles together under the table. She had made me do lots of things. “Mostly I would wear special outfits and stuff, a- and then I’d take them off. Sometimes other people would help me. Some of them were nice, but most of those people treated me like...I don’t know. A pet?”

The detective looked like he was hurt. “How- how old were you when she did that?” His voice was so soft. I almost didn’t hear it.

I shrugged, which made my back hurt, so I winced. “I’ve been taking pictures for as long as I can remember.”

Whenever Shiro wrote his notes, it was slow. It was as if his pen got heavier with every encrypted line. “Do- do you know what store?” I shook my head no. “What about money? Do you know how much they made?”

I traced some of the wood grooves of the table in shame. “Not enough. We lost power a lot, so we had to use candles…” I stopped myself. I wasn’t supposed to talk about the candles. But maybe I could since Mommy was gone? But Papi would definitely get mad if he found out… “Are you going to tell anyone else?” I asked.

“Of course not,” Shiro said immediately. “This is a safe place. You can tell me anything and everything. It’s going to be okay, Lance.”

I stared at him for a moment and bit my lip. There were some things that I really couldn’t say. There were secrets that I wasn’t allowed to tell. I knew that, but Shiro had said that I could trust him. Keith had told me to trust him, too. “Even if I say something bad? You still won’t tell?”

Shiro leaned forward a little bit. I don’t think he meant to, but he definitely leaned forward. “Of course,” he assured me. “We’re here to help you. The more you tell us, the more we can help.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay.”

A light smile graced his face, but his eyes were desperate for information. “Is there something that you wanted to say, Lance?”

I took a deep breath. “Sometimes...it hurt. Like...more than usual, I think.”

Shiro dipped his pen towards the paper, but brought it back before writing anything. “Are you going to tell another story?” He didn’t look at me when he said that.

I looked behind me, which twisted the stitches on my back. I was worried that someone would hear. “I- I know he means well- He’s always meant well. He loves me… really. It’s just that…” I bit my lip. “He’s not very good with kids. He likes kids, sure, but he’s not very good with them. It took him a really long time to get used to me.”

The detective smiled a little bit. “No one is going to come in here. This is a safe place.”

I nodded. “You said that already.”

“Y-yes. I just want you to know.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. It’s funny when professionals break character. Then my smile fell. I took a breath, and let it out. “As I got used to him, he would try more new things. I- I didn’t like a lot of them, but Mommy seemed into it, so I tried my best to do what they wanted…

This one time I was waiting for Mama to come home from work. I had finished my homeschool assignments already, so I felt a little restless. Rico was with me. He seemed restless too. He eventually told me that Mommy would be home soon enough and that we could start early. I had only eaten in the morning that day, so I was really hungry. I decided that Rico would help me forget my hunger, at least for a little bit.

I had barely crawled onto the bed when he was on me. He pinned my wrists above my head and slid his hands over my still clothed body. It was like he wanted to take me in before he picked me apart. It used to bother me, but I get it now. I think it’s like when kids take pictures of their food before they eat it? Or maybe that’s a bad analogy. Anyway, everytime I brought my arms down, he’d pin them back over my head. He kissed my wrists and my elbows. His mustache at the time was prickly. He licked and bit at my neck. He released my wrists to spread my legs. I hugged myself with my free arms. He touched me through my pants, which made moan a little.

I was really glad that he’d learned to go slower. Foreplay is important. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled gently at his hair. He grunted in approval against my lips. I opened my mouth for him to put his tongue in. My breath grew heavy as he ground his chest against my body. He slid a hand up my shirt and grasped at my chest like I was a girl. He instructed me to hold my shirt up with my teeth. When I did, he attacked me with bites and kisses all over. He kissed my belly and pelvis when he took off my pants. By the sound it made, I knew that he was leaving marks.

I grabbed my penis. I didn’t want him to touch it. It was still burning from a time before. He raised an eyebrow when I did this. “Hold on to the bars on the headboard, boy.” Reluctantly, I let go of myself to do as he said. He slid my shirt over my eyes. I wanted to move it, but I knew that I would be rewarded if I didn’t, if not punished if I did. I whimpered as he touched me. He kissed the base of my penis, and then my taint, and then my butthole. He started to lick. He poked, and stretched, and sucked. I don’t know why I got so scared. Maybe it was because I couldn’t see, but I kicked. I took my shirt off all of the way to see if he was hurt. He grunted in anger. Rico grabbed my ankles and pinned them over my head. I cried out in surprise and pain. “I was trying to be gentle with you, but it seems to me like you want it rough!” I tried to push back his chest with my feeble arms. “Hands on the headboard!” I held the bars so tight that I thought they might break. I screamed when he slammed into me. I wasn’t ready. It was hard to catch my breath. He stuffed his underwear into my mouth to keep me quiet. I started hyperventilating through my nose. I was crying. I was scared.

I was so scared, but for some reason, my mind kept thinking about how my feet and hands were so close together. I was folded in half. It reminded me of when I went to school. There was a big room that we would go to sometimes. All of the kids in my class would sit on the floor and try to touch their toes. It’s called a pike, I think. Keith and I used to compete. I always beat him in stretching, but he always won at...everything else. 

Sorry, that’s off topic.

Then Mommy came home. Rico didn’t stop. I watched as she set her bag down, and took her coat off. I wanted her to tell him to stop. I wanted to tell him to stop. I wanted him to stop. She stood by the bed, quietly assessing the situation. Rico let out a little huff, whether of amusement or exhaustion, I couldn’t tell. Mommy hummed to herself and took off her clothes. She put her hands behind her head, producing a pink hair ribbon. Kneeling next to me on the bed, she secured my wrists to one of the bars. I let go of the headboard, but my hands clenched themselves back into fists. She tucked Rico’s underwear deeper into my mouth. She smiled then. “I have such a beautiful son.” 

Rico came inside of me. I thought that meant that we were done, but he continued sloping into me, like the ocean’s water against its shore. Mommy said something to him that I couldn't hear. I blacked out after that. When I came to, he was inside my mother. They both seemed happy. They loved each other. My legs felt like a forgotten pair of scissors, left open to rot. I watched them together, and I felt sick. ‘ _They don’t really love me_ ,’ I thought. I feel bad everytime I remember that. Of course they loved me. He loves me. 

I went to take the underwear out of my mouth, but my hands were still bound to the bed. I started crying again. Not out of pain, but of helplessness. Eventually Mama crawled over to me. She brushed my hair with her fingers. “Did it hurt, baby?” I didn’t want to see her. She pinched my face. “You look at me when I’m talking to you.” I glared. She pinched my face harder. “Did you kick him?” I tried to open my mouth to explain that it was an accident, but I couldn’t. I nodded. She softened. “Oh, baby. Was it scary?” I nodded again. She grabbed a piece of skin below my ribs. “Let me tell you that life is like that.” She twisted the skin between her fingers. “Love hurts. It bites. It stings. It strangles. It screams.” She dug her nails into my flesh. I mewled into the gag. “It _kills_.” Mommy released my skin and started to pet the area. “But love also cares. It kisses. It hugs. It heals.” She brought her icy blue eyes back to my own. “You can’t have one side of it without the other, Lance. If you are aggressive, expect aggression. If you are affectionate, expect affection.” She leans down and kisses the forming bruise. “It’s always going to hurt, but think about how happy you make him. Think about how happy you make me. It’s worth it.” Her smile is the most wonderful thing I’ve ever experienced. “Your pain is nothing compared to the hell I go through everyday because of you.” She kissed me on the nose.

That’s when I realized that it’s not all about me. Everything bad that has ever happened in that house was my fault, and all I ever did was complain about it. I kicked Rico when he was trying to be nice. I hurt him and he still loved me. I deserved to be hurt too. It’s always my fault, and I need to accept that. When they spend money on me, I shouldn’t complain when we lose power. When it’s dark, I shouldn’t cry when the candles burn. When I break the rules, I shouldn’t lament being punished.”

I let out a sigh.

Shiro’s hand was shaking. “Lance.” His voice was shaking, too. “None of this is your fault.” I bit my lip. “You’re still just a kid. She hurt you, but you didn’t- you don’t- How could you think that’s okay?”

His words hurt me, but I knew they weren’t true. “You wouldn’t understand,” I said. “You’re like Keith, right? You’re an orphan? You can’t understand how precious Papi is to me. He can cut me to pieces and one little kiss can make it better. It took awhile for me to understand, but he loves me. They both loved me so much. I miss her so much. I would give anything to see her smile again.”

The detectives eyebrows made an angry shape. “If your mother loved you so much then why did she leave you?”

My breath stopped for a moment. The room became very still. My ears were ringing. “That...that was my fault too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for lack of updates, I'm comment thirsty. I also forget about this story when I don't get notifications about it, so...who's really to blame? (It's me, but I really do appreciate comments.)


	7. Keith III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith chapters...like...write themselves, tbh

I’ve always hated hospitals. They fucking suck. I hate the visitors. I hate the patients. I hate the smell of death in the air drenched with bleach. I hate the white walls, and sheets, and floors. But most of all, I hate _being_ a patient. I had told the stupid fucking cop who picked me up that I was fine. I had told him specifically _not_ to take me to the fucking hospital. 

“I just want to leave,” I told the lady at the front desk. “I’m fine.”

She looked up at me. Judging by the bags under her eyes, she had been here for a while. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let you go. You’re under the age of eighteen. You’re going to need a parent or guardian to pick you up and check you out.”

I made a fist on the desk. “Ugh! But I don’t have anyone! I told you already. I don’t have parents. I don’t have a guardian. I don’t have siblings. It’s just me. Let me leave! Please!” It was already past midnight. 

The woman sighed. “If it’s just you, then why do you want to leave so badly? Where will you go?”

I threw my hands up in frustration. “I don’t know?! Away from here?” She had a point, though. Where would I go? I guess the orphanage, but they wouldn’t be happy to see me. Maybe I’d wander the streets until morning.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave,” she said. “Someone has to have some claim over you. Unless someone walks in and says, ‘hi, I’m here to pick up Keith,’ then you’ll have to stay here for the night.” 

I heard the automatic doors open behind me. What was to keep me from walking out on my own? I opened my mouth to say something when I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Hi. I’m here to pick up Keith?” What the actual fuck? It was Tadashi, or whatever his name was. 

The desk lady looked just as surprised as I was. “Who are you?” she asked. 

He brushed his hair floof back. “Shirogane?” he said. “I called before.”

She did something to her computer. “Ah, okay.” The lady took out a sheet of paper and a pen. “I need to see some form of ID, and you need to sign here. Um, then...then you’re free to go.” I looked between the lady and Shiro. He did as she asked, and smiled at me to leave. I narrowed my eyes at him in distaste.

As soon as we were two feet out of the door, I turned in the opposite direction that he was going. “Thanks, Shiro,” I waved, “but I don’t need your help. Goodnight.” He grabbed the collar of my shirt and jacket, pulling me back. “Ack! What the hell, man?!”

Shiro seemed amused by me. “I’m not going to let you wander off by yourself.” He gestured to his cruiser. “Get in the car.” I narrowed my eyes at him again. He opened the passenger door for me. “Please?” I rolled my eyes and sat down, arms crossed. I was surprised that he didn’t make me sit in the back. “Great,” he cheered once we were on the road. “So where are we going, Keith?”

I sneered at him. “You’re lost?”

He sneered right back at me. “No, but you seem to be.” A moment of silence passed. “What were you doing out so late? And alone? You were kinda far out there.” He was softer now. He kept his eyes on the road.

“I wanted to take a walk,” I said hotly. He glanced at me while we were stopped at a red light. “And then it got too dark for me to see, so I decided to keep walking.” He didn’t seem satisfied with my story.

Shiro took a sip of coffee that he had had in a cup holder. It was 1:13 A.M. according to the car’s clock. Why the fuck was he drinking coffee? “I won’t ask if you’re okay, because you seem fine, but what happened? They wouldn’t take you to the hospital just because you’re angsty.” Was that a fucking joke?

I sighed. What’s the harm in telling him? He’ll drop me in a month or two anyway. “I didn’t need to go the hospital. I just had a stupid panic attack.” I gripped my crossed arms. Shiro obviously wanted me to explain further. “I was just having a shitty day.” He remained silent. “My latest foster mom got rid of me over voicemail.”

Shiro looked sympathetic. Gross. “That is pretty shitty.” He turned a corner like a textbook driver. “So you have nowhere to go?” I threw a hand up as if to say, ‘ _obviously_ ’. “You could stay at my place,” he suggested immediately. “We’ve got a guest-”

“No offense, but I just met you today. No thank you.”

He pointed at the clock with a smirk. “We met yesterday.” I was not amused. “Regardless,” he tried again, “I’m going back to the station. My shift doesn’t end for another three and a half hours. You’ll have to stay with me unless you decide that you have somewhere you need to be.”

I was _not_ going to the orphanage tonight. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.” 

The station was a two story nightmare. It was just as gross as I remembered. This time, instead of going towards the cells and interrogation rooms, we took a left by the elevator and went towards the offices. Shiro’s office was kind of like a really small dorm. It had a desk, a couch, a little tiny dresser, and the rest of the room was covered in file cabinets. There was one little window. The desk was a mess. There were papers and folders stacked all over it. The computer monitor was off, but the computer was running. The GalraTech insignia glowed purple in the dim room. Shiro picked up a box of files from the couch and set it on top of another box of files. “Uh, I think I have a blanket somewhere around here,” he said. “You can sleep on the couch if you’re tired.”

The clutter was overwhelming. “Jesus Christ, dude. Are you okay? Do you live like this?”

Shiro laughed. “It’s only like this when I have a night shift. Usually I put everything back when I’m done using it. And all of these files aren’t mine. This used to be a storage room, but everyone got tired of me coming in and out of here, so they moved my desk in.” He opened one of the drawers on the tiny dresser. “Aha! A blanket.” 

I set the blanket on the couch when he handed it to me, and approached the desk. “Storage room for what?” There were a bunch of pictures of the same woman. She was blonde, fair skin, blue eyes. “Is this your girlfriend?”

“Huh? Oh, no. I never met her before she died. And this is a storage room for cold cases,” he said. 

I looked at the woman in the pictures again. “Why?” There was something unsettling about her. Maybe it’s because I thought that she was alive only moments ago. No, it was the eyes. There was something about her eyes that made my skin crawl. I turned to Shiro. “Why do you do this?”

He shrugged. “It makes me feel like I’m completing something. I want to know what happened.” He picked up an x-ray image of a skull, which was blown out on one side. He put the image with the other pictures of the blonde lady.

I felt very awkward, and honestly, a little scared. “Oh.”

Shiro shook himself out of his daze. “She was my first assignment. She only died a few years ago, but chief told me to drop it. It bothers me, though. There are so many missing pieces to this case. I just want to know why she....” He sighed. I looked at some of the papers on the desk. There was a venn diagram. One side said ‘murder’, the other said ‘suicide’. The bullet points were written in Japanese, I think. “I’m going to keep working,” he pulled out his desk chair. “You should sleep. I can take you to school in the morning, if you want.”

“Right,” I said. I sat on the couch. It was old, but well worn and comfy. I took off my uniform jacket and boots, but I decided to leave everything else on. I, unlike Lance, wore a tank top under my uniform. I had boxers on, but I wasn’t totally comfortable taking my pants off in Shiro’s office. Whatever. Tomorrow was Friday. Or today? Anyway, I’d wash my uniform soon.

I didn’t realize how tired I was until I laid down. I drifted off almost immediately. I woke up a few times to the light of the computer. There was a lot of blood on screen. I watched as Shiro frowned and zoomed in. There was a footprint. It was a very slender footprint, almost moth-like. Shiro sighed and wrote something on a notepad. He looked back up at the foot only to bring his head back down in his hands. He grunted as if he had been hit. He was breathing heavily, like he was having a nightmare or something. I was startled. He eventually calmed down and exited out of the tab, wiping sweat and possibly tears from his face. I turned around on the couch after that. I didn’t want to see anymore.

The sun rose too soon in the morning. Okay, it was almost seven, which was when I usually woke up, but I was really tired. I heard voices. I opened my eyes to see a skinny cop with messy brown hair enter the room. “You’re shift ended almost two hours ago,” he teased Shiro. “Go home, silly.”

Shiro spun his chair around, a grin plain on his face. I guess he had recovered from his episode last night. “But if I went home right after my shift, then I wouldn’t get to talk to you in the mornings.” 

The skinny boy moved in, mirroring Shiro’s grin. His nose was touching his. He was giving him _the eyes_. “Aw, did you miss me?” His hands were creeping up Shiro’s arms.

Shiro returned _the eyes_. “I did.” Then they kissed.

“Gross,” I said without thinking. The little one jumped away from Shiro and straightened up. Fuck. I should have pretended to be asleep or something. “I-I mean, just affection in general is gross. Not that you…” I hate myself. I could keep trying to save it, but that’d probably make it even worse. The guy with brown hair was acting weird now. He looked nervous.

“Matt,” Shiro called. “Calm down. It’s just Keith.”

Matt, presumably, had no idea who I was, despite Shiro’s elaborate description. He blinked a few times. “The kid brother?” he asked. I scowled. Shiro nodded. “Why is he here?” Matt’s eyes glistened with something. Fear? Maybe I was scowling a little too hard.

“He needed a place to stay,” Shiro said simply, replacing files in folders. 

Matt still seemed lost. “And you brought him here?” He looked at me apologetically. “You know, there’s an actual bed at the house. He could’ve gone to school this morning with Katie, too, though he probably wouldn’t want to go for zero hour...” He nodded at my jacket. “You’re at the Garrison, right?”

”Oh, uh, yeah.” I was still kind of in shock. I’d never seen other gays in real life before. I was trying to figure out what I should do. Was I supposed to tell them that I was gay too? No, I think that’d be way weirder than anything I’d done already. 

“I offered him the guest bed,” Shiro defended himself. 

While the two continued their back and forth on hospitality, I decided to check my phone. Seventeen percent battery life. Fuck. I knew that no one at school would have a charger that I could borrow because I had a rinky dinky Walmart phone. My charger was in my backpack. My backpack...fuck. I had no idea where it was. There was a text that I hadn’t received until some time while I was sleeping, but the time stamp said that the message had been sent at 6:12 P.M. the day before. It was from Hunk: “Did you get home okay?” Great. Hunk was probably pretty worried at this point, knowing him. Either I was wrong, and he dropped it, or my phone would send me his fretful messages beyond too late.

Shiro cleared his throat. “Keith?” I looked up. “Are you ready?”

I stood. “You’re not going to take me to school in a police car, are you?” I was trying to be mildly kind, but there was only so much I could do. “If so, I’d rather walk.”

Shiro’s smile was starting to get on my nerves. I could tell that he really meant it. I felt like he saw something in me other than trouble, and that made me feel bad. Of all the things I’ve been to people, a disappointment has never been one of them. “I’m off duty, now,” he said. “The cruiser stays here. How do you feel about feel about motorcycles?”

I had to hold back a gasp. I loved motorcycles. They were one of the only things I could remember about my dad. I hated that I loved them, and I hated how likable Shiro was. I really wanted to ride on a motorcycle, though. “Thats fine,” I squeaked.

He seemed pleased. “Great!” I strictly held his shoulders on the bike. None of that around the waist shit. He bought me breakfast on the way to school, too. I tried to stop him, but he insisted. It was really satisfying because I hadn’t had dinner the previous day. I had to remember to not get attached, though. Shiro was nice, but no one ever stuck around for long. I gave him to the end of the school year, tops. “Can we hang out next week?” he asked. “I can take you out to lunch or something.”

I handed him his spare helmet back. “I have delinquent study time during lunch everyday.”

Shiro pursed his lips. “Can I pick you up after school someday?”

I shrugged. “Sure.” I wasn’t looking to be his best friend, but I had nothing better to do. He handed me his phone and I put in my number. We decided on next Friday. 

Hunk hugged me when he saw me, which I wasn’t ready for. “I’m so glad you’re okay, dude.” He let out a laugh of relief. “You didn’t answer any of my texts. I was so worried. If you didn’t show up to school today, I was going to call the cops and report you as missing.”

I pat his shoulder to signal to him that the hug was over. “Sorry about that.” I brought out my dying phone. “I didn’t get your messages until this morning.” He forgave me. It turned out that I had left my bag in Hunk’s car when we all went to Lance’s. He gave me his keys and I went on a bathroom break to grab it during class. Lance turned to say something when I came back, but he stopped himself. Come to think of it, Lance had been ignoring me all day. I asked him about it at lunch.

He sighed and murmured something I couldn’t understand. I gave him a look. He sighed again. “Papi saw the bruises and he got really upset.”

“What happened?”

Lance looked down while he talked. “Well, he asked me about them, so I had to tell him. He got really mad. He thinks you’re a bad influence, and wants me to avoid you.”

I don’t know why I was so offended. Why did I even care? Lance was my kindergarten bully, and a liability, but I was probably the best thing to happen to him in school. Without me, who knows what would have happened to him? “I didn’t do anything wrong!” I tried to defend myself. “How am I a bad influence?”

“I- I tried to tell him,” Lance pleaded. “He doesn’t want me to be with fags. I don’t know really what that means, but-”

Pidge and Hunk were staring at him. 

I was shocked. I was mad. I hadn’t taken Lance’s dad to be a homophobe. I had actually gotten homo vibes from him, but I guess my gaydar was off. “Is that what you think of me?!” I pushed Lance’s chest slightly. “You think I’m just some rabid gay waiting to prey on dumb twinks like you?”

He crumbled under my glare. His sorry eyes were glassy. “I don’t know your words. I don’t know what any of that means, but I don’t think you’re bad. Please don’t be angry, Keith.” Lance was begging. He was...scared...of me? The Lance I had known before would have yelled back into my face until we both got in trouble and we were forced apart. Now he was submissive and small. 

“Keith,” Pidge checked. “Don’t yell at him.”

I wondered if he would fight back if I pushed him hard enough. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t mean to yell. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Lance pulled his sleeves down with a sniff. “Me too.”

As the day went on, Lance seemed to forget about his objective to avoid me. I decided to forget about it too. It wasn’t his fault that he was an idiot. The hicks from yesterday didn’t bother us, which was both relieving and unsettling. That weekend, I moved into a new foster home. It wasn’t too eventful. There was a thirteen year old girl who did not seem too thrilled to have me in the house, but other than that, same old same old. To my surprise, the orphanage didn’t give me shit for dipping out on them. Shiro had called them and made an excuse for me. I wished he’d stop doing things for me.

The next week, Ms. Ryner came to talk to Lance about his grades. He was failing three classes. He didn’t understand how he could fail if he was still in the class. Pidge offered to have study sleepovers every Thursday so that we could be ready for quizzes and tests on Fridays. “I also don’t totally hate spending time with you guys,” she said. Her family was doing something this week, but we could come over Friday. 

“I’m busy after school on Friday,” I told them.

Pidge pushed up her glasses. “It’s a sleepover. You can come over whenever you’re done. I mean, you don’t have to, but you are welcome to do so.” She pointed at Lance. “Your dad said you can come, but you need to tell your babysitter.” He nodded.

Friday rolled around and Shiro picked me up in a car. I was a little disappointed that it wasn’t the motorcycle, but I wasn’t going to complain. I had texted him earlier and he had agreed to drop me off at Pidge’s after this. “I know it’s not the coolest play date,” he started, “but I forgot that I have grocery duty this week. Do you have anything against Target?”

I crinkled my nose. “As long as you never refer to this as a ‘play date’ ever again, I really don’t care.” He laughed at that.

We parked in the middle of the lot next to a black van. Shiro joked about me sitting in the baby seat of the cart. I only rolled my eyes. “I know you’re committed to this angsty aesthetic,” he teased, “but why don’t you smile? I know it’s not because I’m not funny.”

I crossed my arms as we walked. “I never smile.” 

Shiro laughed. “That’s not true. I saw you smile the first time I met you.” I was about to refute, but he continued. “When you saw your friend?”

I blushed. Then I was embarrassed for blushing. “Lance is _not_ my friend.”

“Oh?” Shiro smirked. “Is he your boyfriend?” 

“No-!”

“Yeah! His name is Keith!” someone from another aisle said.

I stopped. That was definitely Lance. I looked at Shiro. He looked like someone who was overhearing some juicy gossip. I pointed silently to myself, then silently to the source of the voice. Shiro raised an eyebrow. I nodded slowly.

“Oh?” someone else in the other aisle, a man, said. “Is he your boyfriend?” I was dying. Shiro was laughing silently to himself.

“No,” Lance sighed. “We’re not friends. Keith’s only my accountant.” I was hanging my head until I heard that. What the fuck was he talking about?

The man who was with him clicked his tongue. “What money do you have that you need an accountant? And why is he helping you take off your clothes?” My face was on fire. Of course Lance would tell events in the worst sounding way possible.

I could imagine Lance tilting his head in confusion. “I don’t have money.”

I heard their cart squeak down a ways. ‘ _Let’s follow them_ ,’ Shiro mouthed. I tried to signal that we should not do that, but he was already going.

“How old is this _Keith_?” the man questioned.

“Uhh,” Lance uhh’d, “I don’t know.”

The guy who was with him sighed. “You shouldn’t talk to people like him. Tell me his full name. I’ll take care of him for you.” I didn’t like the sound of that.

“I don’t want to stop talking to him,” Lance whined. “Keith is super cool, and he can beat people up! He doesn’t always do that though, because he is secretly nice.” The other gave no response. Maybe there was a look. Lance huffed. “I think it’s Keith Kogane, but-“

“Keith _Kogane_?” The man put an emphasis on my last name. “Any relation to a Shirogane?”

I looked at Shiro. He pointed a silent finger at himself as if to ask if they were talking about him. I could only shrug. 

“I don’t know,” Lance said. “I could ask him if you would let me go study.” 

Their voices got farther away. Shiro stealthily went around the corner to follow them to the baby section. “Why do you want to go to study so badly? Do you even know what studying is?”

There was a beat of silence. “Well, no.” 

“You are unbelievable. Will anyone else be there? I don’t really care, but it comes out of my paycheck if you die.” I was pretty sure now that this guy was Lance’s babysitter. I was also pretty sure that I didn’t like him.

“Hunk will be there!” Lance almost shouted. “He’s super nice. He’s my best friend.” I felt hurt that Lance didn’t think _I_ was his best friend, but whatever. It didn’t matter. “And Pidge, he’s super smart. It’s his house. Um, and Keith! Keith will be there! Oh, and Pidge’s mom. I’ve never met her.”

The babysitter sighed. “Hunk? Pidge? Keith? I refuse to believe that someone could hate a child so much to name them any of those things, and that’s saying something coming from me.” Wow. Rude.

“Yeah,” Lance giggled. There was a sound then, like plastic cartons falling to the floor.

“What is wrong with you?” the babysitter asked incredulously.

“Sorry,” Lance peeped. “I thought they were decorations.” I squinted at the source of his voice. Shiro also seemed confused. “I’ve never been to a store before. There is so much stuff. I thought that some of it would be fake, like the fruit stickers.” I blinked a few times in disbelief. Was he talking about the toy grocery store from our daycare?

The babysitter sighed heavily. “You’ve never been to a store?” There was a pause. Maybe Lance nodded. “You are… it doesn’t matter. Do you eat this stuff?” The sound of glass, probably a jar, on metal, the shelf.

“Why would I eat baby food?” Lance sounded disgusted. 

“Because you act like a baby. Why wouldn’t you eat baby food?” The babysitter said this like it was a very logical assumption.

“I don’t eat,” Lance said. He sounded annoyed; like he’d said this a million times before.

The babysitter took a deep breath. “You can drink baby food. You don’t have to chew-”

“No. I won’t eat it.” I’d never heard Lance sound so indignant. He was a pushover, so it was almost unsettling to hear him put his foot down. 

“You’re going to starve to death, you little sh- ugh. You brat.” The babysitter didn’t seem like to kind of guy to sensor himself. “It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long...or a tragedy. I haven’t decided.”

Shiro had been gathering grocery items while I was distracted by Lance. It was pretty typical stuff: bread, cereal, protein bars, etc. . He gestured to the cart, then pointed the opposite direction of Lance, veering off towards the produce section. I wanted to keep eavesdropping, but I followed Shiro. “That was weird,” he said casually. “That was Lance, yeah?”

“Did you use your detective skills to figure that one out?” I sneered.

We both laughed. 

Shiro touched all of the apples. “Who was the person with him?” He chose three and put them in a little plastic bag. 

I popped my wrists. “I’m not sure.” I said. “His babysitter, I guess.” Grocery store air always dried out my throat. I scanned the checkout area for a water fountain. I saw Lance down a ways. He was having trouble getting out of the cart because his legs were stuck in the baby seat. Of course he fucking sat there. I ducked down. These school uniforms were like fucking traffic cones. I didn’t want him to see me. I creeped behind the bananas to get a better look. 

“What are you doing?” Shiro questioned playfully. 

I put a finger to my lips, and pointed at Lance. He had finally gotten out of the baby seat, but he fell as soon as his feet touched the floor. The babysitter facepalmed, at least I thought that was the babysitter. He- maybe she?- had straight white hair that stopped just before the shoulders, kind of like Yuri Plisetsky hair. The person wore a lavender crop top and high waisted jean shorts. It had to be a girl. From my spot I could see eyeliner. Maybe a really pretty boy? I really couldn’t tell. They had some weird ass shit in their cart. It looked like rope...maybe some wires, trash bags, baby formula, Reese's Puffs, duct tape, and...lemons? They had a lot of lemons, actually.

“What are _they_ doing?” Shiro asked, suddenly intrigued. 

I shifted my position behind the bananas as Lance and the other moved down the line. “That’s them,” I whispered. “I guess they’re leaving. How many lemons do you think they have?”

Shiro looked really worried. “That’s way too many lemons.” He glanced behind us. “There are only two left.” We waited until they were out the door to check out. The black van was gone when we got back to the car. “Where did you need to go?” Shiro asked as soon as I buckled.

I pulled up Pidge’s text with her address on my phone. “Do you know where that is? I don’t have data left this month, so I don’t have a map.” I kind of shrugged apologetically.

Shiro smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. I know where it is.” A few minutes later, we were pulling into the driveway. Shiro turned off the car and removed the keys from the ignition. Oh? “Keith, will you help me take in the groceries?”

I nodded. I guess he was going to drop me off after the groceries were safe? We took everything in one trip (Shiro said something about cul-de-sac cred). He directed me to the kitchen and told me to leave the groceries on the table. I watched awkwardly as he put them away. Then I heard a scream.

“Matthew James Holt! Give it back to me right now!”

Matthew James Holt, aka _Matt from the police station_ , sprinted around the corner with a phone in his hand. He almost tripped. “Hi Shiro! Bye Shiro!” He sprinted back out the other side. Then he sprinted back into the kitchen again, except this time he was wearing glasses, and shorter, and actually Pigde fucking Gunderson, and oh my god, I’m a fucking idiot. 

She stopped. “Oh, Keith. When did you get here?” I gestured at the groceries, too shook for speech. “Sweet,” Pidge said. “Hunk’s in the living room if you’re looking for him. Lance isn’t here yet...” She went for her pocket, and froze suddenly. “Shiro! Matt took my phone and I need it to text Lance! He seriously needs help with directions!”

Shiro blinked. “Why-? Nevermind. He’ll give it back if he still wants to go out tonight.” 

Matt peeked around the corner, setting the phone gingerly on the table, and darting off again.

Pidge huffed, taking her phone like it was an injured bird. “So Keith…” I looked up. “Shiro is your big brother?”

A smile tugged at the corner of Shiro’s lips.

I panicked and ran into the living room. Today had been fun, but I couldn't get attached. No matter how nice or cool he was, Shiro was not my brother. He wasn't bound to me. Sooner or later, he’d leave...just like everyone else.


	8. Shiro I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro has a lot of changes of heart throughout this chapter. Sorry if it's kinda all over the place:l Also, I didn't proofread bc I don't feel like it rn. Sorry not sorry babes

I stared back at the boy in front of me. I’d been trying to get my hands on him for years. Wait, not like that. I meant I had wanted to talk to him for a long time. Lance was the sole surviving witness of the McClain murder...or suicide, but we could never get a warrant to question him because he was a minor. I could pursue this. I could finally find out what happened to Elaine McClain, but at what cost? Here he was: vulnerable, traumatized, and weak. Were he anyone else, I would ask him to relay the events of his mother’s death, but that would force him to relive it. I couldn’t do that to him. Personally, I barely knew Lance, but he was precious to many who were precious to me. _This isn’t about Elaine_ , I reminded myself. It was about Lance, and helping him, and bringing Rico to justice.

Despite Lance’s submissive nature, a defiance gleamed in his eye. He wanted to prove to me that what his parents did to him was okay, that it was expected. He wanted to prove to me that everything wrong in the world was his fault. I wanted to lock up every single piece of shit who had ever hurt him. I wanted the horrible people who had convinced him of these things to suffer. I was angry. No, I was furious. I hadn’t meant to snap at him, though. I had provoked him, and now his defenses had kicked in.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I wanted to tell him that his mother was horrible. I wanted to tell him that everything he’d grown to love was wrong, but I didn’t know how. My job was to collect evidence so that his lawyer could convict Rico. I wanted to bring Lance out of ignorance, but I didn’t know how to do that without turning his world upside down. I couldn’t let him go on thinking that all of this was his fault, but I didn’t know how to convince him otherwise. “We need to stay on topic. We can talk about your mother some other time.”

Lance sighed, the defiance in his eyes remaining. It was as if he was daring me to try to disprove him. His idea of love was one of the first ideas he’d ever had. The very foundation of his being was that parents should fuck their children. This foundation would be very hard to get rid of, but what would happen after that? Would everything else about him come crumbling down? Would he lose himself completely? He needed to know, but I couldn’t be the one to tell him. I had to do my job so that Coran could do his.

“Rico,” I began. “He hurt you.”

“He loves me,” Lance whispered.

I didn’t want to hear anymore, but there was a sick part of me that was intrigued. No. I needed evidence. “I’m...aware.” He seemed to soften. “They tied you up,” I reminded him. “How...how did you get out?”

Lance looked up and to his left, indicating that he was recalling visual memories. “I- I’m not really sure, um, that time specifically. Papi really likes seeing me tied up though, so we do that a lot. It’s kind of an acquired taste on my part. Sometimes I wake up, already untied. Other times...sometimes they forget about me, I think. They almost always leave me a bowl of water, though, so that’s good.”

He was talking in the present tense. I did my best not to shake. “They made you drink out of a bowl?” I failed to keep the anger out of my voice.

Lance only blinked. “Well, yeah. My hands were bound.” He looked at his wrists. “Though, I guess usually drank out a bowl anyway. That way I wouldn’t make that much of a mess. Sometimes, they just liked to watch, too.”

I frowned. “They liked to watch you drink out of a bowl? Why?”

Lance smirked. “You’d be surprised how many people wanna see me on my hands and knees,” he winked.

I really wished that he’d stop doing that. I’d much rather he was crying, and having a hard time telling me these things, but he was smiling, and joking. I cursed the blush that dusted my cheeks. “You shouldn’t do things for people just because they tell you to,” I breathed. “You should think about what you want to do.”

He laughed. It sounded forced. “What I _want_ is to not get hurt. Disobedience almost always leads to punishment. Punishment…” His eyes became distant. His voice dropped too. “...always hurts.”

I wanted to comfort him. He was so incredibly broken that I didn’t see how he could even stand on his own. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve this. No one did… But why Lance? He was always so happy. _No_ , I thought. _He wasn’t_. The signs had been there since the beginning. I had even noted to myself that something was very wrong, but I had never done anything about it. None of us ever dug deeper than what we saw. Hell, the kid had tried to kill himself in my house! He had clearly been suffering! I’m a fucking detective and I had let it slide. I had let this happen to him.

“Shiro?” Lance waved. “Are you having a flashback? A- Are you okay?” His eyebrows were turned up in concern. Lance was so sweet and innocent. He was so naturally caring. It had probably been easy to manipulate him into submission and service. He was the perfect victim; an easy target.

“I…” I swallowed, the aftertaste of coffee was bitter in my mouth. “This is about you. You…” His face softened with relief. I sighed. “Your house… There were dog bowls in it. There were puppy training pads, and collars and leashes, and in the backyard, there is a wire cage. Did you… Was there ever a dog, or pet, or-”

“No. Those are for me.” He seemed embarrassed. “I- I don’t usually pee myself, by the way. The pads were just for, like, sometimes I can’t control it because of seizures and stuff. Before I had a babysitter, I had to stay home by myself, but they didn’t want me to get into trouble or anything, so they tied me to the bed so that I wouldn’t get into anything, obviously, and I couldn’t always hold it until someone got back, so I had to have the pads for, like, to protect the carpet. I- I don’t usually pee on myself. It’s usually in the toilet, or- or the shower, or something.”

I was avoiding his eyes. “How long, do you think, were you left, um, to sit in your urine, usually?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I have a really bad concept of time.” He started tracing the grooves in the table again. “Long enough for me to get rashes, most of the time.”

I continued my notes. My left hand hurt. I wanted to switch to my right, but then the lines would smear. I also didn’t think I could handle the sound of clicking metal as my tendons moved around the titanium bones on top of recording Lance’s grievances. There was enough on paper to convict Rico of several charges already, but I wanted to be sure that that sick fuck was going to pay for everything he had ever done to Lance. “Was this a form of punishment: to make you sit in pee?” I silently cursed the number of yes or no questions I’d asked. Luckily, Lance always elaborated. He was strangely willing to share sensitive information.

Lance licked his lips. “Sitting in pee wasn’t a punishment, but I’d usually get in trouble for peeing on myself.” I could tell he was ashamed. “Punishments usually fit the crime though. Like, when I wet myself, then I have to clean the sheets or carpet. I’m not allowed to wear pants when I do that. Mama used to make me stand outside without clothes, but it doesn’t really snow that much anymore, so it’s not really worth it.” He blinked up at me like he was ready for the next question.

I didn't want to hear it. I didn’t want it to be true, but it all made sense. “Can you tell me about any other punishments, ah, if you can remember?” This was his chance to say that he didn’t remember. This was his chance to change the topic, but of course his eyes roll to the left as he recalls every little detail.

“I used to get in trouble a _lot_ ,” he giggled, reminiscent. “Like, in school, I’d get in trouble for fighting other kids. Well, really it was just Keith, but that’s why I started homeschool. I’d also get hungry at school because I was away from Mama, so sometimes I would eat. Only, like, a little, but Mommy would always make me throw up until there was nothing left. I am better at self discipline now. I mean, I do eat sometimes, but the guilt makes me sick, so I don’t even have to put my hand down my throat, usually.” He bit his lip before continuing. “Sometimes I get in trouble for throwing up, though. Like, obviously I have to clean it up, but sometimes I’m just not allowed to eat or drink so that I stop...uh throwing up.” He scrunches his eyes as if just now realizing the illogicality behind these clauses. “It makes more sense in practice,” he assured me. I disagreed, but fighting him on this would get us nowhere. “Oh! When I say bad words, or say anything I’m not supposed to, really, Mama, or I guess only Papi now, makes me hold the hose in my mouth until water comes out my nose. If it was bad enough, Mama would make me sleep outside after she sprayed me down, but Rico is soft. He’ll just make me sleep on the floor, or in my own room, or something. He doesn’t really like to cut me either. That’s not really a punishment, though. It was more of a penance.”

“He cut you?” I demanded.

Lance cocked his head to the side. “No. I said he _didn’t_ cut me. Only Mama did that. Well, I do it too, but only because she can’t.”

It was off topic, but I my curiosity got the best of me. “ _Why_?”

“It was only fair,” he explained like it was obvious. “I took a little bit of her every time I ate, or whenever she loved me. I guess I did something to make my father leave her too, so it was only fair that she took pieces of me.” I couldn’t respond. Lance seemed to take this as confusion, so he explained further. “She had a knife. She had had it since before I was even born. I think it was my father’s, or something. That’s probably why she used it on me. I never really knew when to expect it. She would hold me against her chest, like any other time, but the cold metal against my skin always made me tense.” He put his hand under the table. Maybe he was tracing his scars as he continued. “‘Relax,’ she would say. ‘ _Relax_.’ I tried to. I would close my eyes and focus on my breathing, trying to make myself as still as possible. Then Mommy grabbed my hair. ‘Watch,’ she said through her teeth. ‘I want you see what you make me do.’ And so I watched. I watched as slowly, slowly she cut a notch in my leg. I watched as red dripped in a perfect line down my thigh, and onto the bed. I waited as she judged whether or not my pain amounted to an acceptable fraction of her own. She replaced the blade into the gash she’d just made, deeper this time. I stifled a moan. Again and again, she deepend the cut until her hand, the knife, my leg, the bed were all covered in my blood.”

I wasn’t sure if Lance could see me or not. His look was so far away. 

“After she died- I mean, all of her is gone. There’s nothing left. That’s why I- She’s gone because of me. I have to make up for it, somehow. Every time, it’s like I’m giving little pieces back to her. She can’t tell me when it’s enough… I don’t know if it ever will be, but I guess I’ll continue until I can’t give any more. I’ll continue until there’s nothing left of me too.” There was a determination in his eyes, like he’d found his purpose.

“No,” I said out loud. I wasn’t supposed to stop his train of thought. I wasn’t supposed to tell him any of my own ideas, but I couldn’t not say something. “No,” I repeated. “You can’t- I mean… Do you still have the knife?” If he did, then maybe we could get a warrant to actually search the house instead of just doing a gentle sweep. Though, if we were to search further, I was afraid of what we’d find.

“No,” Lance sighed. “Papi took it away from me. He doesn’t want me to hurt myself, so I told _him_ to cut me, but he doesn’t want to.” 

I winced at my notes. I’d gotten excited with all of the evidence I was getting, and I’d forgotten my goal. If Elaine was the one doing all of these things to Lance, then Rico could only get accomplice charges. Wait, what the fuck was I thinking? He had raped Lance for years. He was by no means innocent. Maybe he didn’t cut the kid with a knife, but he did beat him half to death with a broken bottle. From Lance’s nonchalance, who knows how many times it had happened before? “What _did_ Rico do?” I redirected. “I mean, to you. How did _he_ punish you?”

Lance looked behind him at the door again. “His justice doesn’t always make sense. I mean, I deserve it, of course, it’s just hard for me to, like, learn from it, I guess. He always did what Mama told him to do, but after she died, he kind of took his own path.” Lance finally looked like he was pained by what he was saying. “He was always drinking after she died. I mean, there are times when he’s sober and he’s wonderful, but he’s not himself when he’s drunk. He doesn’t act like...normal. He usually just, like, hits me, and stuff, but when he drinks he’s just- I’m just… I-I’m scared. He won’t listen to anyone. He’s just so angry. I mean, even when he’s not drunk… I mean, when he’s angry he’s...scary.” Lance’s eyes wandered the room like they were following a frantic moth. “I mean, he loves me. He’s just… Once, when I was still pretty little, I got diarrhea while he was bouncing me up and down on his dick. He threw me off of him immediately in disgust. I hit the wall pretty hard. I couldn’t really see...or move, but they were both, that’s him and Mama, they were screaming. I couldn’t make out the words because my ears were ringing, but, like, it was scary. That wasn’t really a punishment, though. After I woke up, because I guess I fell asleep at some point, I had to clean the sheets for Mama. 

“Papi was gone for a few days after that, and I missed him. When he got back I wanted to make it up to him. I mean, I had shat all over him. Mommy had to go to work, so it was just me and him in the house. He’d usually take me immediately to the bedroom, or sometimes even the couch to love me, but he ignored me. I followed him around and he acted like he couldn’t see or hear me. Of all of the punishments that didn’t make sense, this was the worst. He set out a bowl of water for me when the sun had started to set. I kneeled down to drink, but then he left to go to bed! I still don’t know if he was angry, or sad, or what, but I wanted to make it better. When I crawled in bed next to him, he turned away. I was starting to get really frustrated. I went to his other side to try to at least curl up next to him if he wasn’t going to love me, but I fell off the bed because he was on the very edge. He didn’t even check to see if I was okay. I was starting to think that he didn’t love me anymore. That thought made me cry. Then I decided that if he wasn’t going to punish me for what I did, then I would have to make up for it in my own way.

“I went through Mommy’s underwear drawer and picked out the smallest stuff I could find. There was stuff in there that was my size, but I wanted something that was a little too tight so that it would leave marks. I made sure to be quiet putting on the little training bra. I also slipped on some of Mommy’s lacy knee socks that went up to my thigh. Papi usually went nuts for this stuff, so I was sure it would make him pay attention to me. I wanted to make him feel really good because I was too selfish to make myself feel bad. I crawled back onto the bed, where Papi was asleep on his back. I crept up between his legs and straddled his waist. He didn’t react. I pulled the blanket off of him and replaced myself across his groin. He woke up, but turned his head away and pretended not to see me. ‘Look at me!’ I whined. He didn’t. I started rubbing myself against him. The action made my panties rub uncomfortably between my open legs. Papi only spared me a glance before ignoring me again. I pushed his shirt up so that I could undo his pants. Why he had worn jeans to bed is beyond me. I pulled them down to his knees so that he could feel me better over his crotch. He was looking at me now. A smile found its way onto my face. I took his hands and guided them to rest on my hips. He bit his lip. I didn’t know why he was trying so hard to avoid me, but he was cracking.

“He got hard pretty fast once I had his eyes on me. I leaned forward to kiss him, but he sat up to meet me so that I didn’t have to move off of his dick. I pulled his shirt up as his lips moved against mine. His hands snaked across my back and snapped the bra strap against my skin. It stung, but in a good way. His other hand toyed with the hem of my underwear. The sensation was starting to be too much too fast. I slithered down a bit and uncovered his pulsing cock. I wanted to just take the whole thing down my throat so that Papi would love me again, but my gag reflexes kept stopping me. He grabbed my hair and helped to keep my head down. It was different than times before. He was gentler, somehow. Once his dick was properly slathered in saliva and precum, I tried to crawl back up to his face. He grabbed me through my panties and I instinctively tried to close my legs. I had to remind myself that this was supposed to be a punishment, so I forced myself to stay open.

“I had to focus really hard to relax. I felt blood rise to my face as he touched me longer and harder. I stopped him for a second so that I could catch my breath. I decided that this was a good time to take off my underwear, but I fell twice trying to complete the action. It was freeing to get out of the tight fabric, but I also felt exposed. I wrapped my legs around Papi’s waist and ground myself against his belly. I was starting to get sloppy. I grabbed blindly for the lubricant on the bedside table. I ended up getting a lot on the bed and my leg, but Papi didn’t seem to mind. Stretching myself was simple enough, but stretching myself _enough_ seemed to be the real issue. Getting his dick inside of me was harder than I had thought. I mean, he usually forces it in himself. I barely had the head in and I was already panting. He rubbed his hands up and down my thighs patiently. My legs gave out from under me and I fell fast. I screamed. Tears didn’t even have time to build before they fell. It hurt so badly that I wanted to stop right then and curl up in a cold shower until I couldn’t feel anything anymore. 

“But then I was moving. Papi was moaning in approval under me, and I realized that I was riding him, like I’d seen Mommy do. I tried to do my hips in circles, but that was hard because I kept almost blacking out every few seconds. Eventually Papi sat up again to help me stay up on him. My legs were shaking by the time he finally released his load inside of me. All of me was shaking, actually. I collapsed into a shuddering mess on the bed next to him. He swept his hand behind my ear against my sweaty scalp. He started to pull away, but I managed to catch his hand and put it back against my face. ‘I _love_ you,’ I said. Even my voice was shaking.

“He brushed his thumb affectionately against my cheek. ‘I love you, too,’ he smiled. And I knew that he meant it.” Lance blushed and bit back a smile of his own.

The worst part about all of this was that I think he was right. I think that Rico really did love him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know what you think of the difference between narration in Lance chapters and narration in Shiro chapters. Do you prefer the question answer format or the story chunks? Lemme know in the comments (I read all of them). Next chapter will be Lotor ( ♥_ʖ -)♥


	9. Lotor II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been like, "Oh, boy! Finna update real soon!" for a whole ass month, and I apologize.

Prorok grabbed a sloppy handful of my hair. He pulled my head from the shelter of the blankets and forced me to face the camera. I hated it when they touched my hair. It took a great deal of willpower not to scowl. Instead, I moaned, tilting my eyebrows upward so as to appear as helpless as possible. It’s all a science, really. Anything could be calculated with the right data. Later, I would force myself to watch the raw footage so that I could take notes for myself. Prorok used his grip on my hair as leverage to thrust himself into me. It hurt. Like an amateur, he had told me to keep my hands flat on the bed. I gripped the sheets, annoyed. I wasn’t supposed to touch myself or move at all out the doggy position. 

A few complaints about Prorok: One, he was a bad dom. He always told me what to do, but it was never anything interesting. He was just a fucking dick about it; Two, he was tall enough and heavy enough that whenever he kneeled on my legs (like he was doing now) it hurt like a bitch and always left bruises; Three, despite his height, his dick was short enough to just barely miss my prostate. It was incredibly frustrating. I could never get off with him; Four, I couldn’t ever cum with him because he was obsessed with not letting me touch myself. He sure as hell wasn’t doing anything for me. The only time I had even gotten wet with him was because I had drugged myself to be aroused; Five, he was too rough. He never used enough lubricant, always leaving me sore and dissatisfied. Like, maybe it could be hot if he was doing anything _other_ than stretching my ass and crushing my legs, but he did the same things every fucking time. This left a considerable amount of work on my part because _I’m_ the one who got punished when anything went wrong. I would have loved to share these complaints and give constructive criticism, but I wasn’t allowed to do that either because ‘ _I was a sub_ ’ and ‘ _subs were on the bottom for a reason_ ’.

It’s all fucking bullshit. I was not a submissive person. Sure, I was good at subbing, but I was good at everything. There were drawbacks to having me in this position, though. My father had informed me recently that my voice was too low. I’d been perfecting my whining, but I’m still a grown man. I had a low voice. I had suggested to my father that maybe it was time for me to move on and try domination. In response, he had locked me in a room with Sendak until I was squealing like a little blubbering bitch. I had still been a broken heap on the floor when my father had started reading off his notes. I hated them, but he was right. Using the top of my throat was uncomfortable, but it was effective. It made a lot of money.

Prorok licked at the crook between my neck and shoulder, and I shuddered in disgust. “Mm, Jack,” he grumbled. His breath was so bad that it could kill a small dog, and his body odor was absolutely putrid. To make my reaction seem like one of pleasure, I mewled shakily. In reality, I was gagging on his air. I wasn’t so fond of the nickname either. _Jack Frost_ was my screen name. I hated it. 

Prorok growled into my skin. He was getting close. I spread my legs a little wider and rutted myself against him. To viewers, hopefully, I would seem desperate. I suppose I was desperate, in a way. I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. I had other shit to do today. Prorok came in a jerky mess, still pulling my hair. I mimicked a child who was having a fit so that I could cover up his unattractive grunts.

One good thing about Prorok: he cums, and then he’s done. He pushed off of me, and I collapsed into the mattress, breathing heavily. I remained face down, slowing my breath to little sighs, as cum dripped down my leg. My scalp ached and I wanted to sooth it. I heard a click. “Alright. We’re done here,” the camera operator said absently. 

I broke character immediately, jumping up to put on a thin robe. I needed to shower. I had told Prorok to pull out, but, as usual, he didn’t. Washing cum out of my ass alone was annoying. Not to mention the fact that I’d have to wash my hair because he had gotten his nasty fingers in it. I needed to smell like lavender and jasmine. I had barely gotten the water to a suitable temperature when Acxa poked her head in the door. “Sir?” She had sobered up for today and was scrolling through something on her tablet. “Aren’t you supposed to pick up Lance today?”

I scowled, bringing the shower head down to my legs. “What time is it now?” I asked. I had forgotten about Lance. I had planned to get ready for my date/meeting after filming today, but I guess I’d have to cut it short.

“Uh… It is 3:15, sir.”

“Shit,” I groaned out loud. Lance got out at 3:35. I laid down on the shower floor so that I could hold the douche in my ass with my feet. That way my hands would be free to wash my hair at the same time. Fuck, I hated this. There was no time to blow dry my hair, so I bought a towel with me when I got dressed. “Acxa!” I yelled. She appeared around the corner. “Go start the van, and pull it around front. I’ll be there in a minute.” With a curt nod, she dashed down the hall. I grabbed my makeup bag and my sexy business outfit for later tonight. 

“Lotor,” my mother grabbed my wrist on my way out. “I need more lemons.” Then she disappeared through a curtained doorway. That was the first thing she had said to me in weeks. I hissed at everyone else who passed before I finally made it to the van. 

“Axca!” I yelled. She looked at me from the driver’s seat. “Get out. I want to be alone.” She muttered a ‘yessir’ and shuffled away. I allowed myself a deep breath before speeding to the high school. There were cars lined up all through the parking lot. Not today, Satan. I pulled into a nearby neighborhood and dialed Lance. 

“Jack?” came his little voice. I cringed silently.

“Go to the North side of the building. Then walk towards the little white house that looks like it hasn’t been touched since the Great Depression.” I put my phone on speaker and set it on the dashboard so that I could start my makeup. I took a comb through my hair too. A smile played at my lips. Even without proper care, my hair was beautiful. I looked up occasionally to check for Lance. I had expected to see his guide dog, the kid with black hair, but Lance rounded the corner alone.

“Uhh...which white house?” Lance asked, stopping in his tracks. “I don’t see anything that looks like a gray temperature.”

There was only one white house. The rest of the houses in the area were brown, blue, or some shade of off-white. I sighed. “I can see you. Just walk forward. I’m in the black van across the street.” Lance turned to his left and went off in that direction. “No,” I said. “Stop. Turn back to your right and _then_ walk forward.” Lance hesitated before turning left and marching on. “Lance,” I commanded, frustration creeping in, “turn around.” He turned in a full circle and stopped. I huffed and threw open the car door. I tramped across the street, picked Lance up from behind, swinging him over my shoulder, marched back across the street, and threw him into the back of the van. I didn’t have time for this shit today. 

Lance’s little face popped up between the front seats as I pulled out of the neighborhood. “Oh,” he giggled. “There you are.”

I turned a hard corner and he flew back. “Stay down,” I muttered. I didn’t know what I was going to do with him. I guessed I could drop him at my lair while I was out? But that was two towns over. I also wasn’t totally confident that he’d be alive when I got back. I took a glance in the back during a red light. Lance’s front side was flush against the floor of the van. The slow rise and fall of his back over his lungs indicated to me that he was asleep. I sighed. How the fuck did I get stuck with this mess? 

I pulled into a Target parking lot, remembering Haggar’s lemons, when my phone rang. It was one of my father’s black market business partners, Janka, with whom I was to meet later tonight. I smiled to get into character. 

“Prince Lotor,” he greeted.

I tried to make myself sound pleasant. “Mr. Janka, hello. How are you this afternoon?” He and my father were currently at odds. I was to mend their business relations and reenforce the Empire’s superiority. In order to do that, I had to cater to his desires. He seemed to like me well enough, so as long as I made myself available to him, we had no issues.

“I’m doing okay this afternoon. How about yourself?” 

I’d rather skip the formalities and get to the information, but Janka was usually concise with what he had to say. I couldn’t imagine having a formal conversation with Lance. Especially over the phone. It would take years. “I’m doing well, sir,” I answered politely. I was certainly not ‘ _doing well_ ’. “Is there a reason you called?”

He chuckled, amused. “Always straight to the point, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He sighed. “Yeah. I’m going to have to take a rain check for our meeting tonight. My wife is home for the weekend. She’s quite the nosy one. Don’t want her getting in on your little secret.”

“Of course, sir,” I agreed. In reality, it was no secret that I slept with my father’s business partners in order to secure deals. Even the public media was aware of it, though they had no idea how far it went. “Shall we reschedule for another time?” I suggested. Janka was a slimy, disgusting knave like the rest of the people I worked with, but he was extremely valuable to the Empire. He was horrible, but he wasn’t the absolute worst.

“Always eager to please,” he mused. “I like that about you.” 

“Thank you, sir.” I recoiled silently in my seat.

I heard his lips smack as he licked them. “I’ll be at your show next week. Can we meet that night?” 

I paused. He knew very well that I would be under the influence of performance drugs. He also knew that I needed his favor. “Mr. Janka, the show _starts_ at midnight. I only mean-” I chuckled nervously, trying to keep my composure. “I doubt I will be in a state of mind to attend to you properly. I-”

“I want to taste your sweaty little body while it’s still hot,” he growled.

My face fell, and a knot formed in my stomach. I didn’t see a way out of this. “Yes, sir,” I swallowed. “Next week then?” I said, defeated.

Janka sniggered from the back of his throat. “See you next week, _your majesty_.” He hung up.

I set the phone down with a shaking hand. He was mocking me. I wanted to feel angry, but I only felt sick. I was scared. I knotted my hands into fists against the steering wheel and squeezed my eyes shut. What was I doing? This wasn’t the time to feel sorry for myself. I should have been over this! I’d been doing this nearly all my life! It was just sex. At least that’s what I told myself. I wondered sometimes how different my life would be had I been born to another family. Maybe then, at least once in my life, I would have felt something other than fear and hate. I took a breath. I didn’t have to deal with Janka for another week. I would put him out of my mind until then.

I sent Acxa a text, telling her to send me the shopping list. I had a little more time now. It was just as well that I took care of my girls while I was at a store. I turned around and sighed at Lance, who was still sleeping. He did that a lot. I considered leaving him in the car so that he could rest, but I wasn’t going to leave him alone with the keys. I walked around the front of the van and slid open the back door. He didn’t stir. “Lance,” I pushed gently.

He grabbed my hand off of his arm, pulling it close to his chest. “Mama…” he murmured. He licked my hand and kissed the slick skin.

“You freaky little dog baby,” I hissed, slipping my hand out of his grip to wipe it off on his uniform. He was so fucking weird. He was perfect for the sick fucks that followed me around Zarkon’s base. I brought a cart over to the van and scooped Lance into the cargo hold. The vibrations of the rickety cart on cracked asphalt woke him up. He didn’t say anything. He only blinked at his new surroundings.

“The sign says not to be in this part,” Lance pointed out once we were inside. “I have to sit in the seat part.” He started climbing over into the baby seat. I held him up so that he didn’t knock down the entire cart. He swung his legs slightly once he was in. “This seat is really uncomfortable,” he whined.

“You wanted to sit there. You will stay there until it’s time to leave.”

Lance shifted his hips in a way that was weirdly tantalizing. “Okay.” He kept his stare trained on me. “You’re pretty.”

I scowled. “You’re pretty too.” He beamed. “Pretty annoying.” His smile fell as he processed what I had said. “Here. How about you hold the list.” His eyes got big at the phone in his hands. “ _Don’t_ drop it.” I guided us to the produce section. “Pick out some lemons, will you? I’m going to grab the cereal.” I paused. “Do you want anything to eat?”

Lance frowned. “I don’t do that.”

I remembered his stupid list of rules. “Right.” That was probably why he slept so often. When I got back to him, he had put all of the store’s fresh lemons in the cart. “Lance,” I scolded lightly, “you can’t just take all of these.” I put back two that were browning. “There. Perfect.” There was nothing like inconveniencing the rest of the public with my privilege to brighten my day. I walked us to the other side of the store to get Zethrid’s bondage stuff. I had told her that I could get her quality equipment that was intended for foreplay, but she had insisted that it wouldn’t feel real that way. She wanted actual hardware supplies. Whatever. What she did in her time was her own business.

Lance got a text on his little flip phone. His blue eyes widened. “Oh, yeah. Will you take me to study after this? Papi said I could go.”

“I’m not your chauffeur,” I said, narrowing my eyes. I didn’t have anything better to do, and, if I was honest, I wanted to get rid of him, but I couldn’t just drive him around out of the kindness of my heart. “You’ll have to convince me to take you,” I teased.

He looked around for inspiration. “Uh, Papi said I could go,” he repeated.

I was unimpressed. “You are going to have to do better than that,” I challenged. I assumed that he was referring to Rico, but I guess he could’ve been talking about someone with the Empire, too. I still wasn’t super sure where Lance came from. “Why do you call him that?”

“Papi?” 

I nodded.

“Because he’s my daddy.”

I blinked a few times. “I still don’t see a reason to take you to this…”

“It’s at this house.” He lifted his phone to show me a horribly pixelated image of a house. Underneath the image was an address.

“Mhm, and who is going to be in charge of you while you’re there?” I mused. I was going to take him anyway. This back and forth was solely for my amusement.

Lance thought about it. “Keith, probably. He’s always following me, and taking me places, and telling me what to do, and stuff. He also helps me get my uniform off sometimes. I guess he does that every time because-”

“I’m sorry. His name is _Keith_?” I cringed visibly.

“Yeah! His name is Keith!”

“Oh?” Lance seemed very excited about this person; a little _too_ excited. “Is he your boyfriend?” 

His face brightened, but then he seemed to consider something, and his smile fell. “No,” he sighed. “We’re not friends. Keith’s only my accountant.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Tch. What money do you have that you need an accountant? And why is he helping you take off your clothes?” My image of Keith was a greasy, middle-aged man who had lured Lance off the street one day and convinced him to get naked. Lance seemed dumb enough to go along with something like that.

“I don’t have money.” He seemed confused as to why I would bring that up.

“How old is this _Keith_?” I questioned.

“Uhh,” Lance uhh’d, “I don’t know.”

I sighed. I didn’t really give a shit if someone was touching him, but I wasn’t going to drop him off at a possible murder house. “You shouldn’t talk to people like him. Tell me his full name. I’ll take care of him for you.” I could send someone to get rid of this man in a simple text message. I guess I didn’t need his full name. I wouldn’t mind taking out every Keith in the area.

“I don’t want to stop talking to him,” Lance whined. “Keith is super cool, and he can beat people up! He doesn’t always do that though, because he is secretly nice.” I was so fucking done with this kid. I glared. He pouted. “I think it’s Keith Kogane, but-“

“Keith _Kogane_?” Forget what I had just said. My interest was peaked.. “Any relation to a Shirogane?”

“I don’t know,” Lance said. Then he smirked. “I could ask him if you would let me go study.”

I scoffed. “Why do you want to go to study so badly? Do you even know what studying is?”

He hesitated. “Well, no.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You are unbelievable. Will anyone else be there? I don’t really care, but it comes out of my paycheck if you die.” Lance’s safety was my second concern. First, I wanted to know more about Kogane.

“Hunk will be there!” He exclaimed. This kid’s mood could flip like a fucking coin. “He’s super nice. He’s my best friend.” This best friend character honestly didn’t sound much better than Keith. “And Pidge, he’s super smart. It’s his house. Um, and Keith! Keith will be there! Oh, and Pidge’s mom. I’ve never met her.”

I sighed again. He was talking about school friends. Looking back on the conversation and context, I probably should have picked that up sooner. The situation still didn’t sit right with me, though. “Hunk? Pidge? Keith? I refuse to believe that someone could hate a child so much to name them any of those things, and that’s saying something coming from me.” I knew it wasn’t my real name, but who would call a kid Jack Frost?

“Yeah,” Lance agreed, spacing away from the conversation. He stretched his hand out and knocked over an entire shelf of plastic bottles. He seemed surprised when they fell.

“What is wrong with you?” I seethed.

“Sorry,” he peeped. “I thought they were decorations. I’ve never been to a store before. There is so much stuff. I thought that some of it would be fake, like the fruit stickers.”

I huffed, standing up from retrieving the fallen bottles. “You’ve never been to a store?” 

“Yeah,” he whispered, embarrassed.

“You are…” I went to grab his head, but stopped myself and made fists instead. “It doesn’t matter.” I picked up a jar of sweet potato mush. “Do you eat this stuff?”

Lance made a face. “Why would I eat baby food?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Because you act like a baby. Why wouldn’t you eat baby food?” 

Lance seemed to take offense to this. “I don’t eat,” he huffed, crossing his arms.

I took a breath to keep myself from smacking the shit out of this kid. “You can drink baby food. You don’t have to chew-”

“No. I won’t eat it.” His articulation pissed me off more than his defiance.

“You’re going to starve to death, you little sh-” I brought my hand up to hit him. He flinched, shrinking immediately. I softened, despite myself. “Ugh. You brat.” I took his face in my hand, running my thumb down his cheek. He had dark eye bags, likely caused by malnutrition. I sighed. “It’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet mine. He felt so fragile against my palm. “...or a tragedy. I haven’t decided.” I brought my hands back to my sides, suddenly bothered by the intimacy of the moment. “What about this?” I picked up a bottle of premade formula. “It’s like what you usually drink, but you don’t have to mix it with water.”

Lance balked at the idea of such a thing. “I- uh, yeah. I mean, I guess.”

I stocked the cart with several packs. I also grabbed a tub of powdered formula to keep at my base. I didn’t think I was going to be rid of him anytime soon. I took us to the check out then. A young man in a red shirt approached us. “Excuse me, ma’am- uh, oh.” The boy shifted uncomfortably. “My manager said that he needs to get out of the cart.” He pointed awkwardly at Lance.

Lance tried to use his arms to push himself out, but he quickly flopped back down in defeat. “I can’t feel my legs,” he said to no one in particular. He really was hopeless.

“Here,” I sighed. I put a foot on the cart to hold it steady and grabbed Lance under the arms. He was very light, so I had no trouble sweeping him out of the cart, but as soon as I let him go, he crumpled to the ground. I ran a hand over my face and left him to put the groceries on the conveyor belt. The checkout lady was giving me the stink eye, no doubt because of my feminine attire. Gotta love Texas. She made some remark about the lemons, but I didn’t like her tone, so I ignored her. 

“I’ve gotta gun under this counter,” she warned when I handed her a hundred dollar bill to pay.

I smiled politely. I should have used self-checkout. I wasn’t worried about her, though. I’d dealt with far worse. When I reached out my hand to accept my change, she spit in it. Anger flashed behind my eyes at the disrespect, but I didn’t let it travel further. “Thank you, Brandy,” I said, reading her name tag. I would find her later. Maybe the girls and I could make a night out of breaking into her house and tearing shit up. For now, I directed Lance out of the store and back to the van.

“Will you take me to study?” he asked once I had started driving again.

I tapped the wheel in thought. I was going to take him, but I still wanted something out of it. “What are you going to do for me?” I instigated. Maybe I could convince him to do my laundry, or something.

I looked back for a tick to see Lance sitting with knees apart and his hands between his legs. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” he begged. “Please?”

I suddenly remembered my dissatisfaction from earlier today with Prorok. I spared another look at Lance. I had told myself that I would leave him alone after my first night with him, but he was really asking for it. I pulled into an empty church parking lot and climbed into the back. “Lay down,” I commanded. He obeyed and I reveled in the rush of power. I knew that he would let me do anything to him. I straddled his waist, my bare knees digging into the carpeted floor. I went to unzip his uniform, but it got stuck halfway down. It was no matter. I had a weird thing for unzipping or unbuttoning shirts to a bare chest. I tried again only to reveal an oversized t-shirt. “What is this?” I complained, tugging on the worn fabric. “ _Why_ is it?”

Lance leaned forward to see. “Oh. Keith told me to wear clothes under my uniform.”

I frowned. “Do you have two pairs of pants on as well?” I didn’t give him time to answer as I pulled his uniform trousers low enough for me to see the black leggings underneath. “Why are you like this.” I took his school clothes and folded them neatly. “I’ll get these cleaned while you’re at your friend’s house.”

Lance sat up. “So you’ll take me?” he thrilled.

I rolled my eyes, smiling, despite myself. “Yes. I will take you.” I pressed my lips into a flat line. “But we’re not done here.”

He laid down on his back again, hitting his head against the wall of the van. He shifted slightly so that his occipital was on the carpet. “I’m okay.”

A light chuckle found me as I climbed back over his hips. “You are such a mess.” I ran a hand over his shirt before sliding my hands under the hem. His skin was smooth. I slid up, exposing several large bruises. “What is _this_?” I questioned. It was quite severe. I noted the pattern of color change. This wasn’t a healing bruise, but several healing bruises with fresh ones to replace them.

“Some boys at school kicked me. I bruise easily, though, so it’s not-”

“ _Why_? Why did they kick you?” I’d wanted to kick Lance around a few times myself, but that didn’t mean anyone else could. I was angered. Lance was my...baby...dog? I didn’t know. I was in charge of his care, though. It was only natural that’d I’d experience some protective impulses. I was frustrated that there was a realm in which I couldn’t veer him away from such things. I had had different feelings in the store, but this was different, somehow.

He bent his neck to look at me. “They said because Keith is a fag or something. Oh, and I’m a twink. I don’t really know what that means, but it’s against the rules?”

I put his shirt back down and got off of him again. “I changed my mind.” I was disappointed, but I didn’t want to hurt the boy. I turned to crawl into the front seat, but he hooked his fingers into the belt loops of my shorts.

“Wait,” he said, “I want to.” Everything he did confused me more. He hooked his little fingers into the front of my pants when I turned to look at him. “Please,” he begged, gently pulling me closer. “I want to.”

My mind and my dick were warring for control over me. “What are you going to do?” I sat on the floor. Lance didn’t let go of my clothes.

He brought himself closer to my crotch and looked up. “I’m gonna put your penis in my mouth. Then you will take me to study?”

This development was unexpected, but welcome. “Yeah, okay,” I laughed. He slid my jorts unceremoniously off of my legs. “Do you know what you’re doing?” I was excited, I admitted to myself, but I didn’t want him to accidentally bite me or anything.

“I do,” he huffed, teasing my thong out of my crack. He wasted no time taking my dick into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the tip, not removing his hand from the base of my cock. My breath hitched in pleasant surprise. He rubbed his other hand absently over my upper thigh. I took my fingers through his hair as he pushed himself forward. It wasn’t the best blow job I’d ever received, but it certainly wasn’t the worst. This was nice. The bob of his head was rhythmic and steady. I enjoyed the view of his skeletal hips where the shirt had fallen down. I was tempted pull his pants off, but he hummed around my dick and I lost my train of thought. I hadn’t expected much. His hands were cold against my heated body, and _fuck_ it was starting to do things to me. He tugged gently on my balls in time with sliding up and down on my cock. 

I was a professional. I didn’t know why a high schooler was making me lose it. “Lance,” I warned, trying to get his attention. Was I really going to cum so soon? He let go for a breath before taking my entire length down his throat. “Oh,” I groaned. I sounded like an animal. I replaced my fingers in his hair, trying to calm myself. His throat constricted around my cock and I felt dizzy. I reached one hand blindly behind me to find a condom. Once my fingers found the square metallic wrapper, I pushed up on Lance’s shoulders. An unholy ‘gwah’ escaped him. I tried to communicate to him that I was about to cum all over his stupid little doe eyes. “I- I’m-” I showed him the condom.

“No,” he whined. What the fuck was wrong with this kid? “I want it. Please?” He wrapped his hand around my dick and squeezed slightly. “I want it.” I looked back at this little boy, this _child_ , with saliva and precum on his lips, but also desperation in his eyes. He _wanted_ it. Who was I to stop him? 

“Don’t make a mess in the van,” was all I managed before he reattached his swollen lips to my tip. He hummed as he licked up every last drop of semen that I produced. It felt good to cum on my own account instead of because some director had instructed me to do so. He looked up at me then, letting his mouth pop off of my dick. A switch flicked inside me. 

I threw him against his back and tore off his shirt. He wanted this. When I took his leggings, I was pleased to find him wearing sheer, seafoam green panties. I was less pleased to find years worth of scars on his thighs, but I could ignore those for the time being. I didn’t know how I had missed them before. I suppose the van had better lighting? I directed my attention back to the panties. “Where,” I growled, grabbing the side straps, “did you get these?” I forced the garment up, fast and hard, eliciting a squeak from Lance.

“I- Mm- Mama’s drawer.” He squirmed weakly under me.

I groped him through the thin fabric, and he bit his lip. “You’re going to be quiet for me like last time, yes?” He nodded frantically. “Good.” In one fell swoop, I removed his panties and swung his leg over my shoulder. I picked up one of the many bottles of lube laying around the van. I could be a little more patient this time with prepping him. I played around at his entrance before entering and scissoring my fingers inside of him. It felt hotter than I thought it should. I glanced down at the lubricant bottle to see the words “Warming Jelly”. Poor Lance. He had the back of one hand in his mouth, and the other holding his hair. His eyes were closed, which meant that he couldn’t see me. 

I slipped on the condom and covered my hand in the heated lube. My cock fit easily inside of him, so I pushed all the way in on the first slow thrust. His legs remained relaxed around me, which I found impressive. I grabbed his dick and used it and his leg as leverage. He gasped, but managed to suppress any vocal sound. I almost came again looking at his face. He looked like he was about to cry. I found my rhythm, pumping his length in time. He kept reaching down like he wanted to touch himself, but he hesitated and brought his hands back up his chest to his face. I was thoroughly enjoying his little ticks and fidgets. He hooked his other leg around my waist and arched his back. At this angle, there was no way I was missing his prostate. He was breathing heavily. I wondered how close he was.

I swiped my thumb over his slit. His little body tightened around me. I did it again. This time he let out a little whimper. " _Jack_ ," he moaned. I slowed my pace. "Lotor," I instructed. "Call me Lotor." He looked up at me with glassy eyes. " _Lotor_ ," he moaned again. I hummed into the next slow thrust. He bit his lip, inching his fingers down his stomach. “Oh, do you want me to go faster?” I grinned. 

Silent tears spilled over his cheeks. “ _Please_ ,” he cried.

I took my time opening another condom and sliding the rubber over his shaft, all the while slopping myself lazily into his ass. His legs were starting to shake. I ran my hand up and down his thigh to soothe him. His crying was so pitiful. It was cute. I felt him relax a little, though he was still sporting a boner. “You asked for it,” I growled. I thrusted as fast as I could for the last hurrah. He cried as he came. I let out a throaty groan when his walls tightened around my cock. The satisfaction of cumming because I was aroused and wanted to was almost better than the orgasm itself.

I looked up to let Lance know that I was pleased, but he was asleep. I scoffed, still catching my breath. At least he wasn’t crying anymore, though tears remained on his face. He appeared much older like this. When he wasn’t smiling, his dark circles were prominent against his hazel skin. His bright stare brought no light to his face when his eyes were closed. I danced my fingers lightly over his bruised abdomen. I had a sudden desire to keep him. I wanted him-- his body, his skin, his eyes, all of it-- to belong to me. He could be my little pet. I wondered if anyone would notice if he disappeared. He would be happier with me.

A buzz caught my attention. Lance had a text. He had friends.

I sighed and began to clean him with baby wipes. He woke up in time to see me throw away his condom. It barely had anything in it, but I hadn’t expected Lance to be a heavy shooter. He snatched my condom out of my hand when I tried to tie it off. “What are y- ah.” He swooped down and cleaned my entire crotch with his tongue. I had to do some deep breathing in order to stay soft. Lance then turned my condom inside out and sucked everything off of that. I stared awe. “You are such a freak,” I whispered. He blushed, licking his lips.

I ordered him to get dressed back into his underclothes after that and to drink one of the bottles of premade formula. I dressed myself and drove in a strange state of peace. Lance was a many-sided die. He intrigued me. I wished that I had time to study him more, but we soon arrived at the friend’s house. I came around to open the van door for him (the child lock was engaged). He sat like the eager dog baby that he was.

“Do you have everything you need?” I asked. He nodded, showing me his backpack. I noticed a little bit of dried cum on his cheek. I licked my thumb and wiped it off. Then I ran a hand through affectionately through his thin hair. The affection I held was not for him, but for the idea of him. It was like when someone pet a random puppy on the street. He leaned into my touch. That’s exactly what he was: a puppy. 

I decided to at least walk him to the door, just in case my prior assumptions about _Keith_ and _Hunk_ were correct.

Less than a minute after knocking the door opened, and I froze. Staring back at me was a man whose eyes held equal shock; eyes that held events of things I so wished to forget. Time was nothing as panic, as _fear_ coursed through my veins. I pushed Lance through the entrance and pulled the handle shut. My heart beat harder with every step toward the car, and then more so with every bump in the road. I hadn’t been prepared to see him again. I hadn’t been prepared to feel his presence, to share his space, to breathe his air.

I had never thought that I would see the Champion ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, sorry for making you live through that grocery scene twice. I hope it was worth it.
> 
> Sorry it took so long to update, but at least it's a long chapter? Rip my other fic TAT
> 
> Seriously, though, I hope you guys enjoy this. I've been having trouble writing lately, so I apologize for this choppy chapter. Next up is Keith, though, and those chapters write themselves.
> 
> Uhh...what do you think happened between Shiro and Lotor? (I'm trying to elicit more comments about predictions and stuff as opposed to "this is so sad TAT, alexa, you know what to do")


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